


Assassin! Ishimaru Kiyotaka

by DrCrowCrestwork



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Blood and Violence, Eventual Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Owada Mondo, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Hina flirts with everyone, Hina just wants to be friends :(, Im sorry there is so much backstory, M/M, Military Backstory, Minor Blood Mention, Minor Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Fujisaki Chikiro, Minor Original Character(s), Murder, OOC, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, backstory for days, he/him and they/them pronouns for fujisaki Chihiro, its like 7 pages, plz read the notes, tw before hard chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrCrowCrestwork/pseuds/DrCrowCrestwork
Summary: "He stared at the tv screen, his mouth opened in a slight ‘o’ shape, his eyes wide. His face was inches away from the screen, feeling the buzz of electricity. He couldn’t believe it. His mind would simply not let him comprehend the facts presented in front of him.He had lost. He had lost, and he wasn’t prime minister. "Kiyotaka Ishimaru was crushed to learn he hadn't achieved his dream. But when life closes one door, it opens a horrible chasm beneath you instead. Kiyotaka had soon found himself training for the Japanese Secret services. After slowly rising to the top, he is tasked with his most difficult job yet. He has only one week to eliminate an enemy of the senate, feared gang leader, Mondo Owada. But what happens when Kiyotaka falls for the suave bad boy? will he risk his whole life's work for a delinquent who gives something nothing else can, Happiness?
Relationships: Fujisaki Chihiro & Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo
Comments: 56
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

Kiyotaka Ishimaru had always been good at following instructions. So good in fact, one could almost make the assumption he was the world’s best at following instructions.  
An Ultimate Moral Compass, if you will.  
At a very young age, Kiyotaka was taught the history of his name, of the success and imminent destruction of his late Grandfather and ex-Prime Minister,Toranosuke Ishimaru. Hearing of the corrupt scandals and media press spread about his grandfather, and how it had completely ruined his family’s name and honor, Kiyotaka had vowed to do everything in his power to bring the Ishimaru name back from the grave and make headlines of his success.  
During his youth, he had never had much time to connect with other children or garner many other interests besides his school studies. His parents had worried he was going to overwork himself, and would frequently give him lectures about burnout and proper nutrition. He would simply smile at them and assure he would be fine. Somewhere in his young mind, he had made the decision that his life was only meant to make his parents proud. Make his family name proud. Hobbies and friends would only get in the way.

Kiyotaka had become a moral figure for many students by the time he had entered junior high. His strict militant outlook on school in general had gotten him the distasteful nickname of ‘hall monitor’ and ‘rule hound’. Teachers fought to have him in their classes, admiring his strict attitude and helpful nature. But the students were another story. Kiyotaka was constantly bombarded with hated nicknames, insults, glaring looks, sneers and jeers alike. Being the resident goody-two shoes, of course most everyone avoided him in fear of being reported for rules they found silly. It took him a little bit to get used to this treatment of his classmates, not understanding their hatred for him. But he soon came to realize that none of it mattered. All he needed to do was keep a clean reputation to achieve his desires. And that's exactly what he did. He would chastise students who were out of line, and praise those who followed the rules. He didn’t care if that made him hated. He didn’t care how many glares he got, or how many threatened him with violence. He didn’t care how many times he would come home with a busted lip or a bruised cheek from a delinquent who got too fed up. He would continue to live as he always had.  
That is until during his final high school year, he received a letter from Hope’s Peak Academy. The most esteemed college in the country. Kiyotaka had never felt more happiness in any moment of his life until that moment. It felt as if his life was finally clicking into place. 

His expectation of college living was cracked a bit when he arrived at Hope’s Peak. Sure, the students there were a little bit harder working than in high school, but he had expected more people to be like him. He had visibly frowned when he had figured out just how many parties happened nightly. One too many. But he couldn’t complain too much. Classes were held to a rigid schedule and students who refused to accustom to that lifestyle got a rude awakening. Kiyotaka, much like every other year of his school life, excelled in his classes and quickly became a favorite of his teachers. 

Taka always studied in the library. It was quieter and more cozy than his dorm room. His neighbors weren't the quietest people plus it seemed only people who were serious about their studies went to the library.  
He had two books on physics currently laying across the table, a spiral notebook laying atop the two thick books. His ruby eyes scanned back and forth, across the pages and the formulas. His hand had begun to cramp as he scrawled down each important phrase and string of numbers. He sighed softly, leaning back in the old wooden chair that creaked beneath his weight. He rolled his wrists absentmindedly and heard the soft pops and cracks as they sighed in relief.  
As he was reaching across the table to grab his electrolyte flavored water (Hydration and proper nutrition are important kids) that’s when he noticed it. A group of brightly dressed youth were staring at him from across the isles of educational content. They stood out among the academics who had regularly gathered, bright dyed hair and vulgar shirts, their chains and multiple pieces of jewelry clinked with each movement. They eyed up Kiyotaka, turning and whispering to each other, a few snickers thrown in for good measure. Kiyotaka narrowed his eyes, grumbling to himself as he took a swig from his water bottle and adjusted his crisp white uniform. He averted his eyes from their prying gazes and voices dripping with desires to bring him down with them. He had no intention of speaking with any of the delinquents, and lesser intentions of letting them keep his focus from the physics papers in front of him.  
He picked up the worn pencil again, letting his mind slowly wrap around each word his eyes picked apart, their secrets collecting in his mind as they whispered knowledge of ages past into his ears. He was nearly done with the chapter he had been working on when a soft “ahem” crashed his thought train, destroying any hope of reaching its destination.  
His pencil froze, midword, as he turned to assess the distraction.  
Kiyotaka laid his eyes upon one of the troublemakers from down the hall. A tall lanky man with bright red hair and an equally vibrant goatee growing from his pointed chin. His silver necklaces shimmered in the sunlight that filtered through the dusty library window. It hurt Kiyotaka’s eyes.  
“Hey there!”, the boy sauntered up, his hand that didn’t occupy his metal studded pockets flew to his hair, scratching absentmindedly and nervously at the back of his head. The noise was grating.  
“The name’s Leon, Leon kuwata.” The scraggly boy held out his hand in an awkward display.  
His nails were short cut, it seemed to be from a nervous biting habit, Kiyotaka mused to himself. Dirt coated each nail bed, some half covered in the remnants of a chipped black polish, following up slender fingers and thin wrists. Easy to break, if things got out of hand. Kiyotaka thought, a bloom of frustration clawing its way to the front of his mind. Multiple bracelets that jangled at Leon’s movement peeked through the offwhite jacket he wore. Kiyotaka merely glanced at his extended hand, before returning his gaze to the books, ignoring Leon. He tried to disregard the shadow blotting his perfect study environment.  
Leon made a noise in the back of his throat, letting his hand fall to his side, before trying a different approach. He leaned over the boy’s shoulder, putting one hand on the back of his chair, and the other on the blank space on his desk.  
“Whatcha studying? Physics?” Leon snorted, a disgusting noise. “I’ve never been much good at it.” His voice shook barely, so soft that if you didn’t have a trained ear it would be unnoticable, as if being in kiyotaka’s presence made his nerves jump. Good.  
Kiyotaka once again ignored Leon’s spurr for conversation, but his mind was far from the comforting lull of academic information he was in moments before. He sighed inwardly, feeling his teeth begin to grind as his hand struggled to transfer what his eyes were taking in. Leon smelled of cheap cologne and cigarettes. But also of dyed leather and sports chalk. It irritated Kiyotaka’s eyes and made them water.  
He realized the only way to make Leon leave would be to engage and kindly ask him to, else the fiery red head would keep pestering.  
Kiyotaka clenched his pencil tighter, clenching his jaw before letting out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and let his muscles relax. He put the pencil down, and raised his head slightly. He refused to engage any more than that.  
“What do you want”, Kiyotaka said in a level and calm tone he had mastered over years of dealing with people like Leon.  
The boy perked up instantly, moving to stand as direct into Kiyotaka’s view as the table would allow.  
“Great! So my friends and I” he gestured back to the group of teens,”are having a chill party in the dorm commons room and I recognized you from my hall! I haven’t seen you around much and I uh… wanted to know if you were interested in coming. It's tonight-”  
Leon spoke in a rapid fire spit, his hands never staying at his sides as they fiddled with his necklace, picked at his nails, and tugged on his tied beard.  
“No thank you.” Kiyotaka quietly interrupted, causing Leon to choke on his words.  
“I appreciate the invitation, but I have no time for such activities. I am studying tonight.” His voice was clear, concise, and left no room for an argument. He began to methodically put his things into the leather shoulder bag that leaned against his right calf. First, the two books, then the notebook, then his pencils. Each thing had a specific spot for optimized weight distribution and ensuring his things to not be crushed from his trek. He stood up suddenly, grabbing the last of his possessions.  
“Oh, that's fine, no problem dude!” Leon laughed it off, becoming flustered. Leon shuffled to stand in front of Kiyotaka.  
“Are you sure? I mean i never see you anywhere besides classes and the library, you can’t just study all the time, ya gotta let loose once in a while, bro!” Leon chuckled, standing in Kiyotaka’s way and put his hand on his shoulder.  
Kiyotaka stared hard at Leon’s face, his red eyes piercing Leon’s.  
“Remove your hand, Kuwata. You are in my way.” His tone had turned cold, no matter how much control he put into keeping it level.  
Leon swallowed dryly, hesitantly taking his hand back and breaking the intense eye contact Kiyotaka held. He ducked his head, muttering a quiet “sorry”.  
Kiyotaka pushed past him, shouldering his bag as a scowl krept onto his face. He paused by the gaggle of brightly colored teens, staring down at them he chose his next words carefully  
“The library is a haven for those who wish to excel in their studies and is used by those who wish to require the knowledge to succeed. If you are here to only cause distractions I suggest you all leave. Immediately.”  
He practically spat, looking the group up and down one more time before turning sharply on his heel to leave.  
The group had muttered some half insults as he left, just loud enough for him to hear. Nothing he hadn’t heard before.  
“He's got a stick up his ass”  
“What a dick”  
“Such a prude.”  
“No wonder no one likes him”  
He felt a pang in his chest, his eyes downcast as he walked back to the campus dorms. Sure, he was alone, and sure no one liked to be around him. But he couldn’t complain. It was better this way. Better that he be alone. It was less things to bother him, more time to study. He could focus on achieving his goals, and then…  
And then he would be happy. 

But he couldn’t help the cold feeling seeping into him. Chilling him to his bones. It was an itch he couldn’t scratch, it was crawling just below his skin. A shadow just out of sight. 

He was drawn into what Leon had said. “Let loose” he repeated softly to himself, a quiet dry laugh passing through his lips. As if he, an esteemed straight A student, had time to ‘let loose’. He was mulling over the whole interaction as he approached the dorms. In the bright afternoon sun, other students were out, playing frisbee and chatting beneath the overcast trees, couples were hugging each other and enjoying the day. Kiyotaka sunk deeper into his mind, trying to tune out the loud voices and focused on the ground as it moved beneath his feet. The midday sun shone off his boots, reflecting back his own disgruntled expression. Only when he ran into another student did he snap out of his stupor. The person let out a yelp, stumbling back and falling onto the concrete. Kiyotaka sucked in a breath in surprise, looking down at what seemed to be a young girl. He immediately started to apologize, holding out his hand to help the girl up. She ducked her head, taking his hand as her face began to flush.  
Kiyotaka found it surprising how light she was. As soon as she was placed back on her feet, he bowed stiffly, “I was not watching where I was going, I am sorry miss.”  
The girl tugged at the edge of her skirt, tears pricking the corner of her hazel eyes.  
She muttered something under her breath, her brows furrowing into a glare at the ground.  
“I appologize, what did you say?” Kiyotaka took a step forward, leaning down to hear them better.  
“I-im… not a girl…”  
Kiyotaka froze, feeling his body stiffen.  
“I-..” for the first time in his life, he was speechless.  
He bowed deeply, a flush crossing his cheeks.  
“I am incredibly sorry, sir! I did not intend to misgender you!”  
He could feel his volume rising, but could do nothing to stop it, his embarrassment seeping in.  
“N-no, you don’t have to apologize, it was my fault.” her voice was soft and timid. She wouldn’t dare meet his gaze, staring down at her shoes.  
“You are not hurt, are you?” Kiyotaka questioned, lowering his naturally loud voice. He had noticed how he flinched when he spoke.  
He folded his arms, seeming like he was trying to make herself smaller than he already was.  
‘N-no, im fine-”  
Kiyotaka caught a glimpse of their elbow, scraped from his fall. She tried his best to cover their wound, but it was bleeding profusely at this point, and Kiyotaka could see the pain in his eyes as a tear silently fell.  
“You’re bleeding! I have a first aid kit in my room.” He interrupted them, his eyes scanning the rest of their visible skin to ensure that was the only injury.  
“i-It’s fine, i don't want to cause you any trouble-”  
“It is no trouble at all!” Kiyotaka let his voice grow to it’s natural octave, turning to walk to his dorm and expecting the feminine boy to follow. It seemed for a second he wouldn’t. He paused by the door, turning back toward him. As if weighing their options, the boy stood there and fiddled with his skirt. They slowly began to walk toward him, his eyes looking anywhere but him.

Kiyotaka had instructed them to sit on his kitchen counter, and had given him a towel to quell the bleeding while he went to retrieve the first aid kit. He was currently dabbing at the large gash with an alcohol soaked swab, causing him to every so often jerk his arm back and let out a soft yelp. Kiyotaka let his grip softened as they pulled away from him. He dropped his hand, making sure his voice was quiet when he spoke.  
“If you do not stop moving, I won't be able to clean your wound.”  
Kiyotaka muttered, not making another move. His gaze still wouldn’t meet his own. they stared down at their feet, squeezing his legs together and tucking his hands.  
“I-I’m sorry b-but it hurts.”  
“I apologize, it will hurt less if you do not move.”  
They kept his arm tucked for another second, his lip quivering as his eyes became glossy, before moving it out for him to take. He flinched every now and again, but didn’t jerk his arm away.  
Kiyotaka began to wrap the scrape, taking care to hold his arm gently and avoided using pressure. He stepped back, putting his fists on his hips as he looked at his handiwork. For the first time, they met his gaze. His eyes still held a glossy look, but he looked more comfortable.  
“Better?” he asked, feeling a stir in his chest when they smiled brightly at him,  
“Better. M-my name is Chihiro, by the way.”  
Kiyotaka smiled back, the feeling was almost unnatural and pulled at his lips in an uncomfortable manner.  
“It is a pleasure to meet you Chihiro, my name is Kiyotaka”


	2. Backstory part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another name for this chapter would be: Kiyotaka made a friend and gets a callback to a certain red haired nuisance. And Chihiro is Babey.

“Kiyotaka!” his eyes shot up as his name rang out in the quiet classroom. He turned from the page he was currently studying. His present annoyance quickly melted as he caught sight of Chihiro approaching him.

“Ah! Good morning Chihiro!” he greeted with an enthusiastic smile.  
The two had become fast friends since the first interaction. They shared a few classes, which Kiyotaka was used to being alone in. So when the day after, a bounding and cheerful Chihiro sat down next to him and began to chat off his ear, he had conflicting feelings. It was nice to have someone to talk to, but it was also harder to focus. Thankfully, Chihiro seemed to be as intellectually sound as he was shy, so when it came to class time he wasn’t much of a distraction. What did surprise Kiyotaka, however, is when after that first class together, Chihiro had asked him to hang out after. He excitedly asked, tugged at the sleeve of Kiyotaka’s pristine white jacket. In the past when Kiyotaka would have “class friends'' they would ignore his whole existence the moment they crossed the threshold into the rest of the world. But Chihiro genuinely enjoying his company, and actually wanting to be around him more than a convenience for class time purposes was.. It was a shocking revelation.

He had initially declined, watching Chihiro’s face fall into a sad pout.  
“I have to study, maybe tomorrow.”  
He muttered after a bout of silence, his thought train barreling through station after station, conclusion after conclusion.  
“Aw boo! T-that’s so boring.” He huffed and crossed his arms, puffing out his cheeks. Kiyotaka chuckled quietly, putting his things away.  
“I am sorry to disappoint you, Chihiro, but my studies come first. I promise I will set aside some time tomorrow, Ok?’  
Saying that seemed to lighten Chihiro’s rapidly souring mood. He let out a comically loud and drawn out sigh, rolling his hazel eyes. Kiyotaka stood up and began his trek back to the dorm rooms, with Chihiro trailing not far behind him. The smaller boy had a tough time keeping up with Kiyotaka’s lengthy stride, breaking into a trot on Kiyotaka’s heels.  
“Fine! But you b-better not be lying t-to me. I want to hang out like real friends do.”  
“F-friends?’ it was Kiyotaka’s turn to stutter, feeling his face begin to heat up.  
“Well duh! We ARE friends, right?’  
Kiyotaka paused at the door, his hand hovering over the handle.  
“Of course!” he exclaimed loudly, “we are friends, Chihiro!”  
Chihiro kept walking, giving him an ecstatic wave as he walked off toward his own room.  
“Friends.” he repeated softly to himself, feeling a warm smile, a real smile, lift at the corners of his lips.  
“Real friends”

Just like he had promised, after classes for the day ended Kiyotaka agreed to hang out with Chihiro. The smaller boy was practically vibrating with excitement. He ran ahead of Kiyotaka as they exited the classroom, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited impatiently for him to catch up. This cycle continued the whole way to the dorms, which was across the campus from their last shared class.  
“Cmon slowpoke! Hurry up!” Chihiro yelled back, if you could call it yelling. His voice was so naturally quiet it almost seemed like he was speaking normally. 

“So I was thinking we head down to a tea shop a couple blocks down! I go there a lot, and it's really small and cozy!”  
Chihiro was walking backward to talk to Kiyotaka, stumbling, walking forward and then falling behind, and then trotting to catch up.  
“That sounds nice, Chihiro.” Kiyotaka mindlessly replied, too caught up in the fact that he really was about to go hang out with someone, as friends. He didn’t care what they did, he was just happy to be there. Chihiro’s phone buzzed in his skirt pocket, flashing Kiyotaka’s irises with its bright pinks and purples. Fuzz covered the whole case as cute charms waved back and forth, attached to the top.  
“Oh, they're waiting on us.” Chihiro muttered to himself. “They?” Kiyotaka repeated louder, his strong pace faltering.  
A strong blush creeped up on his pale cheeks as his eyes widened in surprise,  
“OMIGOSH!!!” he yelled out, turning frantically to Kiyotaka.  
“I totally forgot to tell you! I wanted you to meet the rest of my friend group, so I asked them to meet us at the tea shop… but I completely forgot to even ask you!”  
Tears had begun to well up in Chihiro’s eyes and he groaned, dropping his head down before looking up guiltily at Kiyotaka, “I hope that's ok, I'm so so SO sorry!!”  
Kiyotaka sighed inwardly, his happy feeling crumbling slightly. Of course Chihiro would have other friends besides himself. It was selfish to believe he was in the same situation as Kiyotaka was. He mentally kicked himself for being so narcissistic. But on the other hand, if these were friends of Chihiro’s, maybe they wouldn’t be that bad. But he would have to deal with that guilt slowly eating him up another day as Chihiro was still waiting on an answer.  
“Of course! Any friend of yours I am sure I will get along with! Don’t worry, Chihiro!”  
Kiyotaka pushed down his emotions and put his hand on his shoulder in a comforting and confident manner and flashed Chihiro a bright smile, his confident laugh echoing off the cars that passed by the walkway. They had slowly been entering the main city near Hope’s Peak. Tall buildings rose to touch the clouds that drifted lazily by, neon signs shone in the shade of each skyscraper as light bounced off the tall mirror-like windows. Chihiro smiled back, a relief passing over her features as she turned to bound off again, his skirt bouncing along with his high kicking stride. He stopped in front of the windows of a quaint little shop, waiting for Kiyotaka to catch up before he ducked into the swallowing depths. He had used the correct descriptions for the tiny shop. It was incredibly small. Kiyotaka could make out 4 or 5 tables at most, filling the entire place. And as it just so happened, each one was completely full. 

‘Typical.’ Kiyotaka muttered to himself, letting his crimson eyes scan the sizable crowd for the small bunny-like guy he had arrived with. He finally caught sight of Chihiro at a table near the back, waving his arm high in the air before turning with a huge smile on his face to the group beside him Kiyotaka couldn’t see. As he approached, he began to see some details of the group Chihiro was surrounded by. A thin athletic girl, a meek quiet looking boy, a simply dressed girl with long hair, and…

“Kuwata?!” Kiyotaka shouted, startling the group as he approached, narrowing his eyes at the fiery haired punk. Leon reacted in kind, a scowl darkening his pale eyes.  
‘You! What are YOU doing here?” he huffed, stepping forward to stand level with Kiyotaka, who folded his arms over his chest, glaring him down.  
“I could ask you the same question.”  
Chihiro quickly hopped in between the two, her face showing extreme worry at the spite they were radiating.  
“Wait, you two know each other?”  
“Uh, yeah! He was being an ass to me and the gang earlier this week!”  
“Language!” Kiyotaka barked in response,” I wouldn’t have had to be if you hadn’t interrupted my studies with your loud vulgar mouth!”  
“I’M being LOUD?! Dude! You’re the one who’s literally yelling!” Leon took a step forward, daring to intimidate Kiyotaka, but he wouldn't back down.  
“Its the natural inflection of my voice, i cannot help that! But your incessant use of cursing is embarrassing!”  
“Guys! Guys please don't fight! I don't want my friends fighting!”  
Chihiro sniffled, giving each of them a puppy dog eyed look.  
wait...  
They both realized what Chihiro had said to them, and yelled in unison,

‘YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH HIM?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is short, but I’m hoping to finish the backstory part of this by the next chapter so it may be really long :/... If you liked this chapter, and/or this story id appreciate any feedback! I absolutely love reading comments and hearing what you all think of it so far!  
> <3


	3. backstory part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i definitely cant fit all the backstory in one chapter so there may be two more chapters of backstory :/// I just have too many feelings for taka and Chihiro :(((((

“Chihiro! You should not associate yourself with such delinquents!”  
“Chi, bro, why are you hanging out with such a downbeat goody-goody bitch?!”  
The two yelled over each other, addressing the poor upset Chihiro, looking back and forth between his two angry friends.  
“Language Kuwata! How dare you insinuate I am such a phrase!”  
“Delinquent! Are you seriously hearing yourself?! What are you, an 18th century scholar!”

At that point, the athletic girl walked over to the two bickering boys, raising both her hands and grabbing each boy by their shoulder, squeezing with incredible strength. This sudden shock of pain cut both of their words off, causing them to buckle under the weight of it.  
“Stop it already! Both of you! You guys are supposed to be Chihiro’s friends, but neither of you realized you were making him cry!”  
They looked over at Chihiro, who indeed was hastily wiping tears from his pink cheeks and being comforted by the other girl with long dark hair.  
Kiyotaka felt a pang in his chest, his anger being washed away into disappointment and despair in himself. He mentally kicked himself harder, chewing on the inside of his lip. Leon also held a guilty look.  
“I don’t know what either of you did, but you better apologize! Right now!”  
The girl let her steel grip go, giving the boys a light shove before also going over to comfort chihiro.  
Kiyotaka sighed, shifting where he stood, loosening his taut crossed arms and furrowing his brow as he slowly turned his eyes to look at Leon. A fiery determination shone back in his eyes, he was absolutely not going to apologize first. Kiyotaka dropped his arms down to his sides in a loose attention, and closed his eyes so as to not have to look at leon.  
“Leon Kuwata, I apologize for raising my voice at you, and for earlier. I let my emotions get the best of me.” he bowed slightly, still letting his frustration show on his expression. Leon scrunched up his nose in a sneer, receiving a glare from the athletic girl when he looked for any sign of compromise.  
“Fiiinnee!” Leon groaned, slouching and shoving his hands in the pockets of his ripped black jeans,  
“I guess… i'm sorry.. That you are such a prude.”  
The girl smacked him hard on the back of the head, causing him to keel forward before righting himself. While the two of them bickered, Kiyotaka slowly made his way other to Chihiro, the burning shame making the back of his neck and his ears hot. The two girls were occupied with other matters so he could properly apologize to him.  
“Im sorry, Chihiro. I’ve ruined our time together.”  
His voice was low as he averted his eyes from Chihiro. He was surprised to hear a soft giggle.  
“Oh, don't apologize, Kiyotaka. I cry really easily, I've just always been like that. Leon’s a total hothead. I kind of expected him to cause some kind of trouble, and it's my fault for not warning you before him.”  
“I can leave, if you'd like.”  
“Kiyotaka! I don't want you to leave, silly! We haven't even ordered tea or had introductions yet! Here, you can sit next to me.”He patted the empty chair between him and the girl who was comforting him before. Kiyotaka obliged, a feeling of uneasiness settling deep in his stomach as he looked around the small group. He had made a horrible first impression, no doubt one that would stick with them. The athletic girl was still griping at Leon, who was drilling holes in Kiyotaka’s chest with his eyes, as if he thought he stared hard enough, Kiyotaka would die. The long haired girl was on her phone, scrolling calculatively through social media apps. And the other boy glanced nervously at Kiyotaka, flashing him a quick smile before looking away in a fluster. 

As soon as everyone was settled, a peppy server came over with some menus and extended questions. At this point, Kiyotaka was so mentally drained he just stared at the piece of laminated paper given to him, his eyes scanned over the words, but nothing would stick in his mind. He couldn’t understand what any of them meant. Eventually when the server turned to him, he just said whatever name his eyes had landed on first.  
“The green dragon, please”  
Chihiro smiled up at him, beaming with almost a ferocious light to it. It was… cute.  
“That's what i always get too!”  
Kiyotaka snapped out of his state, blinking a couple times before forcing himself into a right mindset to reply.  
“It sounded interesting. What do you like about it?” His voice shook slightly, no matter his control. He felt tired. Much too tired to be here. But somehow, focusing on what Chihiro was saying helped him ground himself, and being in Chihiro’s presence relaxed him.  
As Chihiro rattled on about the balance of flavors color and the aroma of said tea, Kiyotaka found himself hanging on every word, nodding along as Chihiro absolutely beamed at him.  
When the tea finally arrived in small white ceramic cups decorated with small blue and pink flowers, the aroma was truly how Chihiro had described it. The color was like a stagnant river in the middle of a shaded forest. The light dusty green faded to a darker shade near the bottom as it sloshed around the pastel ceramic. It smelled vaguely of chestnut and a soft honeyed fruit.  
Chihiro looked over expectantly at Kiyotaka as he raised the cup to his lips, lightly blowing on its surface. Kiyotaka let the warm scent wash over him as he lifted the cup closer to his lips, letting himself truly experience the infused liquid as it touched his lips. 

It reminded him of his childhood, when his mother would bring him tea during his study sessions. He would barr himself in his room for hours on end, studying every piece of material he could until his eyes were bloodshot. Many times he would skip meals and forget to drink for extended periods of time, so his mother would bring him hot meals and refills on his drinks. He would be forever grateful for her care. Which was just one more reason he had to excel in his studies and show the rest of the world an Ishimaru was a name to be proud of! 

With that thought, he glanced up at the clock, nearly choking on his tea. It was 3 minutes past his due time to leave. That was 3 minutes less he would have to study tonight! Plus the extra 6 minutes it would take him to walk back to the dorms and the extra 3 it would take him to settle down and begin working and-  
Kiyotaka jarred his train of thought, standing up abruptly and reaching into his bag.  
“I am sorry to cut this time short, Chihiro, but i need to get back to the dormitories.” he muttered quickly, fishing money out of his bag to pay for his tea and placing it on the table before turning to leave.  
“W-wait! Do you really have to go?” Chihiro stood up after him, grabbing the cuff of his shirt and pausing him in his tracks.  
“I…uh.. could i walk with you?” It was an innocent question, but with each word he spoke, it was another second chipping away at Kiyotaka’s psyche. Another second he was wasting.  
“Yes.. that's fine, i guess.” Kiyotaka hurriedly replied, already heading off again with a short ‘it was a pleasure meeting you all’ and a stiff wave before he slipped through the crowd and out the door, Chihiro fast on his heels. 

“Kiyotaka! Slow down!” Chihiro called behind him as he marched down the sidewalk. He grabbed at Kiyotaka’s sleeve again, pulling him back. “Why are you in such a hurry! I-is.. is it something i did?”  
If his mind wasn’t in a panicked state and if he was thinking clearly, his current actions and everything he said would have been completely organized and calm. But he was on the verge of a panic attack and NEEDED to get back to his dorm room

THIS.

INSTANT.

He grabbed Chihiro’s hand, practically dragging the smaller boy behind him.  
“Chihiro, I am on a very tight schedule every second of my life. I set the exact amount of time I need for everything. Right down to the second. And right now, I am late. I have never been late a day in my life and right now I am late. I am 4 minutes late, Chihiro. That is 4 minutes I will not be able to study, that is 4 minutes I will have to study extra today, 4 minutes I will not be able to sleep, 4 minutes I will not be able to eat. 4 minutes off my schedule and the rest of my LIFE! Chihiro, do you understand that?!” His voice was cracking as tears were beginning to well up in his eyes. He tried to stop them, to take deep breaths and center himself, but every second he wasn't where he was supposed to be was another second he was failing. He was a failure he was worthless and pathetic he was late and a goddamn-

It wasn’t until Chihiro jerked his arm hard enough to get him to stop and held Kiyotaka’s face in his hands and forced him to look into the tawny haired boy’s eyes that he realized he had been muttering all his thoughts out loud and his tone was growing louder.  
“Kiyotaka look at me.” his voice had a hard tone of authority.  
“Ch-Chihiro-” the smaller boy squeezed his cheeks a little harder.  
“Stop, and take a deep breath.”  
“Ch-”  
“Just do it!”  
Kiyotaka blinked slowly, breathing slowly through his nose and slowly letting it out through his mouth.  
“Chihiro-”  
‘Breathe, Kiyotaka’  
He did as chihiro said, taking slow deep breaths as his heartbeat slowed down ever so slightly, and the clock striking spears into his brain reduced to the gentle ticking of a pocket watch in the back of his mind.  
“Better?” Chihiro asked, smiling the same way he had when Kiyotaka had asked him the same thing just a few days ago.

“Better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be sad. Just a warning.
> 
> if you liked this chapter, lmk! i love reading you fella's comments <3


	4. Backstory part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its happy, then its sad. The door has slammed shut and the chasm is beginning to open. What to do when you feel ourselves beginning to fall?  
> you scream.  
> because there is nothing else you can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so a few TWs need to be for this chapter. TW for self harm, bodily harm, blood mention, violence, yelling and fighting.  
> Its a heavy chapter. Its also very long.

Kiyotaka sat at his desk, the lamp casting a soft yellow glow onto his study material. But no matter how focused he tried to be, his senses kept remembering Chihiro in his room. They had walked back to the dorms together after Kiyotaka’s… episode… in the city. And for the first time in a while, kiyotaka wasn't thinking about the clock. Chihiro had sat him down, getting him a glass of ice water, and pulling up a chair of himself. 

Kiyotaka sat, staring into the ice water as he was too nervous to look up at Chihiro. After a moment of silence, Chihiro began,

“I don’t think you’re a failure.”

Kiyotaka glanced up briefly, ready to reply. But Chihiro spoke before he could even open his mouth,

“I don’t think you’re weak either. You’re the s-strongest person I know. I’ve a-always admired your hard work, even when I was too afraid to talk to you.” It was Chihiro’s turn to look away, folding his hands in front of him and looked down at his shoes, a light blush dappling his cheeks. 

“You’re so smart, and so t-talented and driven. E-even when people try to bring you down, you just keep moving forward and proving them wrong.” 

Kiyotaka blushed at the compliment, hiding it with another sip of his water. 

  
  


“S-so I guess I just don’t understand..Why are you always so anxious, Kiyotaka?”

The question had caught him off guard. He knew why he was. Because he had to prove himself. He had to be the best person he could possibly be. For his mother and father, for his legacy… for himself. 

“I..”

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He wasn't sure how to properly phrase it, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever. He took a shaky breath, a sip of the water Chihiro gave him, and just let the coil in his chest loosen, along with his tongue. 

“Have you heard of Toranosuke Ishimaru?” he began, receiving a shake of the head from Chihiro. 

Kiyotaka sucked a shaky breath through his teeth, his fingers grabbing at the white fabric of his trousers as he began to tell a story he had never told anyone before. 

“He was prime minister a few years ago. He was naturally smart, and hadn’t worked a day in his life. People called him a genius. But since he had never worked hard for his position, he never gave it much thought to try any harder. He was handed everything in his position, so naturally he cared little for actual hard work. He.. uhm… he embezzled a lot of government money, he had such an ego surrounding him he could barely fathom failure. In only a few months of being prime minister, he had completely ruined his status. His family was thrown into extreme debt and distrust.. that man was my grandfather.” 

Chihiro’s eyes widened, raising his hand to his mouth. 

“So that’s…”

“Yes, that’s why I must be the best possible person I can be. That’s why I must strive for absolute perfection and work as hard as I possibly can. I have to prove to myself- to my parents- the world- no… to myself. That the Ishimaru name is something to be proud of. Because if I don’t… i-if I don’t… then what’s the point.” 

he felt Chihiro put his hands gently over Kiyotaka’s. He hadn’t noticed he was crying. 

“You should already be proud, Kiyotaka. You’ve made it into the most esteemed college in the world. You have perfect grades, and… I’m sure your family is very proud of you.” 

His breath hitched as he had begun to sob, all his perfectly bottled up emotions began to pour out wave after wave of anxiety, fear of failure and stress he had been hiding broke loose. Like a single string holding pounds of weights finally snapping. The smaller boy pulled Kiyotaka into a hug, which he allowed himself to fall into, clutching at Chihiro’s back as he wailed into his shoulder. Chihiro shushed him as he squeezed Kiyotaka’s midsection. He rubbed his hands comfortingly down the boy’s back, hesitantly running his fingers through Kiyotaka’s short cropped black hair. 

“I’m proud of you.” He finally whispered, giving Kiyotaka one more hard squeeze before letting him go. He sniffed, rubbing absentmindedly at his red eyes, wiping away his tears with the back of his sleeve. 

“Thank you…I’m sorry you had to see me like this..” he finally muttered after a short pause. Chihiro stood up to get a tissue, handing it to Kiyotaka as he replied, 

“Don’t apologize. D-do you know how many times I-I’ve ugly cried o-on a daily basis?” 

Kiyotaka let out a quiet sudden laugh, a smile breaking out across his flushed cheeks. He wiped away another tear, but the intense heavy atmosphere had lifted ever so slightly. 

“I can’t i-imagine how much st-stress you’re under. If you ever need anyone to talk to, you know I’m here for you.” 

Chihiro lifted his hand, brushing his thumb tenderly over the older boy’s cheek as his eyes searched for something deep in his vibrant red ones. 

“U-uhm…” he stuttered, leaning forward slightly toward Kiyotaka. “Is… is it ok if.. if I call you Taka?” Chihiro quickly followed up, “Like as a nickname.” 

Kiyotaka swallowed thickly, nodding as he stared back into Chihiro’s hazel eyes. 

“That’s… that’s fine chih..” he began to say Chihiro’s name, but his voice faded off as the smaller boy scooted closer, their faces mere inches apart by now. 

“Chih...hiro…” he finished after a second, his hand raising slightly, reaching out, only to draw back, opening and closing slowly as if merely flexing his hand before it dropped back into his lap entirely. 

Chihiro’s hand was becoming hot against his face, but he couldn’t tell if that was because of Chihiro or his persistent blush. 

“Ok.” He responded, quickly adding, “Taka” 

Kiyotaka hummed softly in response, his tongue flashing over his lips as his mouth had suddenly become very dry. 

If chihiro hadn’t closed the distance between the two socially awkward boys, Kiyotaka was sure they would have stayed that way forever. 

The kiss was soft, gentle, and over far too quickly. Chihiro stood up abruptly, almost causing Kiyotaka to fall out of his chair. A dark red blush had spread across his whole face, the tips of his ears tinged a bright pink. 

“I sh-should uh- I should go now-!” Chihiro stuttered out, quickly grabbing his bags and dashing for the door. 

Before Kiyotaka could even stand up to protest, Chihiro was at the door about to walk out. He paused, glancing quickly at the other.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Taka.” 

He flashed a quick bright smile like always, but there was a hint of a quiver in his lip, a bit of a wider tug at its corners. And with that, he was gone. Leaving Kiyotaka alone again. 

And that's where he sat. Staring down at his papers in a vain hope of studying. But every time he tried, Chihiro would float into his mind and his lips would tingle with the memory. He couldn’t focus. Kiyotaka eventually gave up, thunking his head down against the papers as he groaned loudly before deciding to go to bed. 

The next few weeks were spent in quick succession. The two would hang out almost daily, with no mention of the kiss. It hung over their heads like a guillotine, or at least over Kiyotaka’s. Soon enough, Chihiro had gotten tired of waiting for Kiyotaka to ask, so when they were walking back to their respective dorm rooms, Chihiro asked so casually it almost gave him whiplash. 

Chihiro had acted the exact same as he always had, smiling warmly at Kiyotaka when they spoke, walking close by him when they went anywhere together, and sitting next to him any chance he got. Except now, his smiles were different, they stayed for longer. Their hands would brush more often when they walked, and Chihiro wouldn’t apologize when it happened. When they sat next to each other, his thigh would be connected to Kiyotaka’s leg at the tea shop. Kiyotaka had started to frequent these meetings, becoming more associated with Chihiro’s other friends. He had even slowly become at least on level ground with Leon. He had learned that Leon was a baseball star, but hated practicing. He wanted to be a musician. Specifically a rock star. It was an admirable goal, but Kiyotaka still didn’t clash well with Leon’s fiery personality. 

But at least they were on short conversation status instead of the constant glares he had gotten. 

But something felt off… 

Every now and then, Chihiro would reach out to hold his hand, and Kiyotaka would squeeze his smaller hand lightly and let their arms swing in between them. It felt nice. 

But every time Chihiro did it, the implications hit harder and harder. It felt less… good… it felt almost forced. Too much, too quickly. 

Chihiro would study with him, nearly suffocating him with how close he got. He would testingly place his hand on Kiyotaka’s thigh, slinging his thin arms around Kiyotaka’s neck as he would smile with such glee, his eyes begging for a kiss. 

Much like all the other “romantic” things Chihiro did, they soured quickly. 

Too much. 

Too quick. 

Kiyotaka realized soon after that he couldn’t let this go on much longer. He began to dread seeing the smaller boy, a heavy pit settling deep within his stomach at Chihiro’s gleeful grin. It wasn’t that he didn’t love him, he did. He was sure of it. But he just didn’t love as hard, as fast. It was suffocating. It was like he was drowning in affection, and it scared him. 

It scared him to say no, and it scared him to let it continue.

He finally decided he would have to end things. 

  
  


It was a late night of studying again. Chihiro had greeted him at the door with a happy smile and a cheerful hug. Kiyotaka couldn’t help but feel that same cold wave of nausea sink into his bones. 

He waited until Chihiro had settled himself into the comically large cushy chair and opened his study book before he began his prepared speech. 

He cleared his throat, catching Chihiro’s attention as he closed the book, his happiness fading in an instant as he caught onto Kiyotaka’s worried expression. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

He immediately questioned, leaning forward. 

“Ahm.. Chihiro..” he began, sitting down in his usual chair and leaning his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands together. 

“I think..” he struggled to say the words he had picked out. 

“I think we should break up.” 

“W-what do you mean?” Chihiro whispered, his eyes were wide and brimming with tears. Kiyotaka felt his chest ache, wanting to look away, he wanted to apologize and to say they could go back to how things were. But he knew this was the right thing. He knew Chihiro deserved better. Someone who would cherish him every day and give him everything. He knew this wasn’t him, he couldn’t do that. He wanted to be friends with Chihiro and laugh like they used to. He loved hanging out with the smaller boy, but their relationship felt wrong. He wasn’t in love with Chihiro, but Chihiro was in love with him. 

“I’m sorry.” Is all he could mutter, no amount of words could describe how he felt. But he settled for, “I just don’t like you that way.” 

For the first time, Kiyotaka saw Chihiro get angry. For the first time, Kiyotaka saw Chihiro’s face scrunch into a mix of upset and furious. Hot tears welled up in his soft eyes and spilled over onto his cheeks, what once showed kindness, comforting him during his dark times and blinding him with bright beautiful smiles now hardened with confusion, anger and regret.

“If you hated me so much you should have just told me!” Chihiro yelled out, standing up quickly and gathering his things in clenched fists, storming out of the room before Kiyotaka could react. 

“N-no! Chihiro wait! That's not..” But it was too late. Chihiro had slammed the door in his face long before he could finish the sentence. 

“Not what i meant…’ 

  
  


All of the stress of current events left Kiyotaka frustrated and high strung. Any time he tried to sit still and absorb himself into his studies, he would find himself mindlessly tapping his pencil, or shaking his leg. At one point he had begun humming out loud. These, of course, distracted him immensely. He groaned aloud, throwing his pencil down in frustration as he had begun tapping it loudly against the desk. He needed an outlet for all this energy. Wondering if the workout room was still open, he packed a small bag of gym-going supplies into his normal leather shoulder bag and headed out his room, making sure to lock it as he left. 

The gym was mostly quiet, save for a group of swimmers doing laps, and a few football jockeys getting in their late night pumps of iron. Kiyotaka had always felt insecure going to gyms, since they were mostly always busy with jacked dudes that took up whole cubic feet of space and bragged loudly while hogging up the machines Kiyotaka needed. But thankfully today it was quiet, and he didn't need to use any machines. He had decided the best way to work off all this energy was a quick run, and some light boxing. He changed quickly into a loose fitting tank top and black compression shorts before hitting the track. The paved inside track was elevated above the swimming pool and gym area, giving him an aerial view of the residents. He noticed one of Chihiro’s friends leaving the pool below, the tough hard hitting athletic girl who had kept Leon in check. Chihiro… 

Kiyotaka pulled his mind away from thinking about the smaller boy, feeling his gut wrench at remembering his face. 

Now was not the time. He kept his eyes facing forward, feeling the vibrations travel up his legs as he tried to run on the balls of his feet to ensure a lower risk of stretching a muscle. He finished about a mile and a half before he had to stop to catch his breath. His skin was glistening with a thin layer of sweat which dripped painfully into his eyes. He used the hem of his tank top to blot at his face, dragging it down. A low whistle sliced the buzzing silence and his labored breath as he dropped the shirt, catching the eyes of the girl from earlier on him. Her smirk quickly turned into a look of embarrassment as she locked onto his face. 

“Oh! Kiyotaka!” she laughed nervously, trotting over to where he stood away from her group.

“Sorry! I didn't know it was you. I.. also didn't know you were stacked.”

He blushed slightly at her words, not thinking he was anything other than toned.

“Ah” he breathed, a dewey feeling still covering his skin, “It's no trouble. Asahina, wasn't it?” 

He lifted his arms above his head to aid in a speedier recovery. His usual workout wasn't this strenuous, but he needed to work off this energy. 

“Yeah!” she replied quickly, ushering her group to head on without her with a simple wave of her hand. “You can call me Hina, though. I haven't seen you around the gym before! Is it your first time here?” Her hair was still wet from the pool and her presence reeked of chlorine. 

“Uh, no, I only come once a week usually, although it is mainly outside workouts. I figured it was safer to be indoors this late at night.” He responded, beginning to walk over to the machine area, which also contained the punching bags and conveniently placed hand wraps and gloves (safety when training is important kids!) 

Hina followed closely behind him, “Yeah, there's a lot of weirdos that wander the campus at night. I usually walk with my girls back to the dorms. We just finished our swim practice. What kind of workouts do you do? Usually.” Her comments were genuine, and Kiyotaka found it helped draw his mind away from the current storm brewing out of frustration and anguish.

“Just a simple run and maybe some calisthenics.” He responded, grabbing the wrap and slowly positioning it around his first hand. A sudden silence hung in the air as Kiyotaka paused his wrapping, looking over at Hina, who stared back expectantly at him with large blue eyes. 

He sighed inwardly, “What about you?” He turned away, finishing the wrap on his first hand. 

She beamed at him, taking a comically deep breath before staring. 

“Weeelllll! Me and my girls do a light warmup run before we even start practice, and then we stretch nice and good! Do you know how many muscles you use while swimming?” He didn't bother responding, already knowing full well she wouldn't let him. And he was right. 

“It's like, a whole bunch! I've done a lot of sports before in my life, but nothing gives me more exercise than swimming! It's like a whole body workout! Of course, then we get in the pool after doing our warmups and start doing laps-’ 

Hina rattled on about her daily workout with her swimming group, Kiyotaka nodding along every now and then as he started to wrap the second hand. He always had trouble with his left, as it wasn't his dominant hand. He could never get it tight enough. Hina seemed to have noticed, appearing before him with little to no warning. For someone who was naturally loud, Hina could move with incredible silence. 

“Need some help?” She cut off her own conversation mid sentence. 

Kiyotaka flinched a little in surprise, “uh-” But before he could even say an answer, Hina was already unwrapping his messed up job, and unfurling out the long wrap before taking his hand in her smaller ones and gently wrapping it around his palm. She was suddenly very quiet, her fingers brushing over Kiyotaka’s sensitive palm and slowly working the gritty fabric around his whole hand and down his wrist. When she was finished, she gave it a hard tug and clipped it, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips like she had just finished a masterpiece. 

“There! How does that feel?” She beamed at him. Her kindness was a little bit unnerving. 

He flexed his hand experimentally, a small smile working it’s way across his face. 

“It feels good. Thank you, Hina.” he bowed respectfully a little in her direction, which she scoffed at, waving him away. 

“Yeah yeah whatever. Try it out!” She pushed him excitedly over to the punching bag, sitting down cross legged on one of the rolled up gymnastic mats that sat nearby, like a child waiting for a show to start. 

Kiyotaka shrugged his shoulders a little, rolling them back and forth as he shook out his hands and got into a proper position, one leg firmly behind the other has his heel ground into the mat beneath him. As he aimed the first punch, all of the feelings he had been suppressing came forward, forcing a rush of adrenaline into his strike. It was harder than he had intended. Much harder. It was so forceful, in fact, it almost hurt his wrist. The bag arched outward and swung back limply, the chain jingling loudly in the bare silence of the gymnasium. 

‘Wow…” Hina breathed, before chuckling ‘some quarrels at Lover’s lake?” 

Kiyotaka quirked an eyebrow up at the tan skinned girl, “What do you mean.”

Hina sighed, rolling her eyes at Kiyotaka. 

“What, did you and Chihiro get in a fight or something? That punch was real hard.”

Her tone was lighthearted and joking, but her words sent ice cold chills down his spine, and in an instant she could see his expression shift.

“Oh my god, you did!” She jumped up from her seat. He expected to see the mischievous gleam of a drama seeker, but instead he only saw worry in the sparkling sea of her eyes. 

“What happened? Did you guys break up? Did he yell at you? Did you yell at him??” 

She held up her hands in front of her face as her eyebrows drew up into a concerned look.

Kiyotaka sighed heavily, turning his face away from Hina as he stared down the punching bag in front of him. A fire lit under his feet, anxiety and pent up energy making him begin to shuffle.

“We did break up.” he merely said, receiving a shocked gasp from Hina. 

“But before you go assuming things, I broke up with him.” 

Hina remained silent, nearly flinching as he struck his opposing fist out and slammed it into the sandbag, causing it to jerk again. 

“I just… I don’t feel for him as strongly as he does for me. And I felt that was unfair.” 

Hina nodded along, her expression becoming calculative.

“Chihiro has such… strong emotions. It can be a little overwhelming at times. He loves hard, and sometimes…” He paused, cutting a strong uppercut and digging his fist into the punching bag. 

“Sometimes it's just too much for me to handle.” He ended with another hook to the right side before taking a step back to reevaluate his angle, and his thoughts. 

“I love Chihiro.” He said after a brief pause, raising his fists again to his chest level and aiming another punch. 

“But I don’t… “love” him. Do you understand?” 

He paused, looking over at Hina, who was fixated on his face, a hand poised over her lips as if in thought. 

“Yeah, i understand that completely.” She nodded solemnly. 

He continued, 

“Chihiro deserves someone who is going to love him unconditionally. Someone who has just as strong emotions as him. Someone who is going to always be there for him and give him the attention and care he deserves. And that someone just…” He paused again for another hard punch, “Just isn't me. So I broke up with him.”

He finished, shaking out his arms, as they were beginning to tire out. 

He looked over at Hina, waiting for her verdict. She continued nodding for a second, as if picking her words carefully. 

“That really sucks, dude. I take it Chihiro didn't do well with hearing that?”

Kiyotaka nodded slowly, making a whistling noise through his teeth, “No. I told him I didn't like him the same way, and he yelled at me. He said… “If I hated him so much, to have just told him”” He quoted, “and then stormed off before i could correct myself and say what i truly meant. It didn't go at all like I planned.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes, dragging it down his face. He was tired. Hina suddenly slapped a hard palm onto his back, a sudden cheery expression brightening the somber mood. 

“Yeah, that's what I'd expect out of Chihiro. Just give him a few days and he’ll come around. Then you can apologize and hopefully be as good friends as you were. He's just emotional, that's all!” 

Kiyotaka couldn’t help but smile along with Hina, feeling just a little bit better about his situation. 

“I see, thank you for your help Hina.” 

“No problem dude! Hey, it’s getting late, why don’t you walk a gal back to her room.” He elbowed Kiyotaka and gave him a wink before laughing loudly at his confusion. 

“Of course I will accompany you, Hina. We live in the same building, so I have to go there anyway.”

Hina rolled her eyes and punched his shoulder, letting out a giggle.

“I was just kidding with you, doofus.” 

The two had ended up running across the courtyard, a light drizzle dotting their clothes with the cold april shower. It held promise to be a big one, as lightning crackled across the dark sky. 

They stood panting under the awning outside of the dormitory building, giggling to each other. 

“I did not expect to run anymore today.” Kiyotaka sighed, wiping the rain droplets that had splattered against his face with the sleeve of his jacket. 

Hina laughed the same infectious laugh she had earlier, confidence and strength oozed off her every action. 

“As if you need a better reason to change. Why do you wear that uniform all the time anyway?” 

Hina questioned, giggling as his shined boots squeaked quietly down the waxed floors of the hallway. Kiyotaka thought about it for a moment, instinctively putting his arm in front of the elevator door as Hina hopped in after him. He tapped his index finger on his bottom lip, letting the gentle thrum surge forward his thoughts. Why did he wear it? He had just always worn it since he was young, so maybe it was just habit at this point. 

He made a fist with one hand and let his fall onto his palm, coming up with a conclusive answer as the elevator dinged to the next floor. 

“Its principle!” He declared, standing up straighter, closing his eyes and nodding once as if proving a point. 

“If you are always in uniform, you are always ready. You are telling the world that you are prepared for anything it throws your way!” 

Hina hummed quietly in approval of his answer. 

“Plus, i just like wearing it. It makes me feel… important.” He finally admitted, shrugging as if it didn’t mean the world to him. 

“Dude! You look so important!” Hina quickly agreed, her tone radiating excitement as they rounded the corner to Kiyotaka’s hall. 

“Like it's almost intimidating because you’re always looking so serious and those BOOTS!”She gestured wildly to his sparkling shoes, which he had indeed spent hours of his life shining to perfection, pulling at the hem of her athletic shirt and fanning herself as if she was flustered, 

“I wish I could rock those.” Kiyotaka scoffed, feeling his face heat up at Hina’s praise. 

“It's true though!” hina gasped, her tone turning to a pout, shoving him a little as he chuckled at her actions. 

“I could never pull off something like that. But the stoic look suits you. Its so cool and sharp like you’re… a…” Hina let the sentence drop as both students turn to see Kiyotaka’s door sitting ajar. Hina had completely frozen, her eyes locking on the dark doorway,as if something was about to pop out of it. Kiyotaka moved closer to inspect the door. It was bent at a weird angle, and the wood around his lock and the handle itself had been bent and splintered as if it had been kicked in. He stood in the doorway, staring deep into its inky blackness as if trying to sense if the room was empty. He heard Hina shuffle to stand behind him, feeling her shaky breath on his back. With an air of determination, he stepped into the darkness, Hina’s plea of safety following behind him. But he didn’t get far. 

He flicked on the light, blinking away the sudden shine that filled the room. His mind barely comprehended sound as Hina gasped behind him, clasping her hands over an open mouth. The scene that laid before him made his blood run cold. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His whole room was trashed. Pillow fluff covered most of the floor, cascading from the slashed up remains that scattered the room as well. His living room table had been overturned, practically thrown halfway across the room. He took a hesitant step in, feeling and hearing the sudden loud crack at his feet. His eyes fell onto a white porcelain piece, surrounded by many tinier shards. Every piece of breakable tupperware he owned had been smashed. Forks and knives were stabbed haphazardly into the opposite wall, mirroring back a cartoon angry face. All of these things, his couch, his silverware, it was all replaceable. But as his eyes scanned the room further, he found beneath the fluff a layer of papers. As he reached down to pick one up, inspecting it closely, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes had begun to burn, his heart stopped and started, thumping heavily in his ears. “My textbooks.” He suddenly choked out, falling to his knees to shuffle through the cover. 

His uniforms were among the pile, each one scrawled words in messy finger painting on the front back. It looked like someone broke a sharpie and smeared the ink. Words like ‘Stupid’ ‘worthless’ ‘bastard’ and ‘Bitch’ 

He felt Hina behind him, leaning down to inquire what he meant. 

“My textbooks.” he repeated. “My homework, my study material. My clothes.... It's all.. It's all destroyed. Whoever broke in vandalized everything.” He rubbed a dark spot on one of the pages. “They burnt some of it too.” His voice was strained and low, his hands beginning to shake as hot tears welled up in his eyes. He picked up a torn spine cast aside by the perpetrators, running his fingers along the worn edges. 

“Who would do something like this.” he finally muttered, letting his eyes survey the room one more time. 

“I.. I don't know. We should tell the headmaster… immediately. They can’t get away with this.” Hina replied, sudden anger and determination in her voice. 

“Wait.” Kiyotaka whispered, noticing a slip of paper fluttering under the sharp edge of one of the knives stabbed into his wall. 

He carefully ripped the edge, turning it over and reading the chicken scratch that matched the messy writing on his clothes. It read;

“I know what you did. Meet me on the roof, and quick. Before you and that squeaky clean record get bloodied.” 

He read the note out loud, a troubled expression darkening his eyes. 

“This is bad… This is really really really bad. We need to go to the headmaster.” Hina chewed on her bottom lip as she turned to leave, expecting Kiyotaka to follow her. 

He only did for a second, retrieving his leather bag he had left by the door and turned to walk the opposite direction. 

‘What are you doing?!” Hina yelled after him, running to catch up. “No, No! Kiyotaka Ishimaru you are NOT going up to the roof! Who knows what kind of person is up there!” She rushed ahead of him and stood blocking his path. 

“I won't let you!” 

Kiyotaka halted his rapidly increasing pace, staring her down. 

“Hina, these people have destroyed hours of my work. Hours of my life. I am going up there, and I am going to bring them to justice. I am prepared for whatever they throw at me. Please, go and get the headmaster for when I return.” 

With that final word, he shouldered his bag and brushed past her, setting his sights to the stairs.

By the time he had reached the roof, the small spring shower had turned into a torrential downpour. It pounded against Kiyotaka’s skin as he stood facing the door, waiting for the perpetrators to appear. He had set his bag close to the door to ensure it didn’t get wet and if he did get into trouble he would have his phone in arm’s reach to call for help. 

The door handle turned quickly, causing Kiyotaka to tense up as it slammed open. 

  
  
  


“Hey! Punk!” Leon shoved open the door to the roof, storming over to where Kiyotaka stood, stepping back away from the furious redhead. Two of the lanky groupie boys on his heels. 

“You!” Kiyotaka yelled back, “So it was you who ruined my room! That's a destruction of private property and I hope you know that-’ he began in an authoritative tone, faltering only when Leon was fast approaching, showing no sign of slowing down. Leon’s face scrunched into a grimace, grabbing fistfulls of his jacket, now getting thoroughly soaked with rain. 

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!!” Leon roared, yanking the pale raven haired boy closer to him, baring his teeth like a feral animal, 

“Wh- what-” Kiyotaka replied numbly, his own emotions beginning to sour.

“Why did Chihiro come to me breaking the fuck down! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM BASTARD!”

He shook Kiyotaka furiously, yelling in his face. 

“Wh- What do you mean-”

Just as quickly as Leon’s fist had connected with his jaw, his hand was curled back onto his jacket, pulling him ever closer as his voice raised with a tinge of rawness. The two boys hooted behind Leon, throwing baseless insults at Kiyotaka. 

“Don't tell me that horseshit, Ishimaru! Just what the fuck did you do to Chihiro!”

Kiyotaka’s head snapped back, hurting his neck as a pink blotch spread quickly onto the skin of his cheek. He grabbed at Leon’s hands, digging his nails into Leon’s arm and wrenching his hands off his uniform coat. 

He shoved Leon back, gritting his teeth, “I have no idea what you’re talking about! I haven't done anything!!” he yelled, putting a hand up to where he was hit. The two took a step toward Kiyotaka, looking like they were about to step in.

“ Leon rushed at Kiyotaka again, his eyes dripping with malice as his hair hung heavy with rain, grappling at his arms and pushing Kiyotaka toward the end of the roof. 

“Chihiro deserves someone better than you, someone who will actually treat him good! Unlike you, you useless piece of shit! I comforted him, he cried in MY arms! So tell me you stupid bastard! What did you do!” Leon’s words twisted a sickening feeling of hate and despair in Kiyotaka’s gut, bile rising in his throat as he felt the tips of his ears becoming hot, his body trembling from the cold rain coming down in sheets around the two boys. 

“Let go.” Kiyotaka’s tone was like ice. It was almost prideful watching the color drain from Leon’s face as he shivered in the rain. But almost as quickly as it had left, his color flared up again with a vengeance. 

“Not until you-”

Leon threw on a cocky attitude, spitting his words at Kiyotaka until the shorter raven haired boy interrupted. 

“I said, LET GO!” Kiyotaka screamed, shoving Leon back harder, causing the boy to stumble and almost trip. He stood up straight, his mascara running in dark lines down his cheeks.

“FINE!” He growled, “If you won’t tell me, i'll make you tell me!” He ran over to grab Kiyotaka’s bag, bringing it from the protection of the awning. 

The other two quickly ran to hold Kiyotaka back, each grabbing one arm as he struggled against their grip. 

“S-stop-” Kiyotaka started, fear suddenly striking his body. 

Leon held the leather bag up like a prize medal, slowly making his way over to the edge of the building. The leather was already darkening in the heavy rain. Kiyotaka could almost feel the damage to his academic papers like it was digging into his own skin. Though that could have been one of the two wingmen digging their nails into his shoulders. He couldn’t tell. 

Leon smirked at him, reveling in Kiyotaka’s expression. 

“Tell me!”

“I didn't do anything! I don't know what youre talking about!”

He struggled desperately against the two brutes, feeling his blood pressure rising. 

“That's not a good answer, School RAT!”

Leon ripped open the preciously polished latch, his nails creating deep scratches against it’s perfect surface. 

“Lets see…’ He pondered, shoving his hand into the bag and pulling out an expensive textbook. 

“Ah! Physics!” He smiled widely, before letting his features drop into a scowl, ‘I always hated that class.” He reared back and chucked the book like it was his world famous baseball throw, watching the pages go flying into the wind as it fell with a thunk against the muddy ground. 

“Oooh!~” He cooed, knitting his eyebrows together in a fake upset look “that's not going to be recovered easily” 

Kiyotaka felt a wrench in his gut as tears filled his eyes. He didn't bother hiding them, glaring at Leon. 

“You’ve got one more chance, Hall Monitor, before I dump this whole thing over the side.”

“Stop it Leon! I didn’t do anything! Just leave me alone! I really have no idea what you’re talking about! Just stop it… please..” 

He choked back a sob, wincing as one of the boys pulled his arm back in a wrong way. 

Leon stepped toward Kiyotaka, holding his bag above his head like he was a hungry dog and this was a deer carcass.

“Thats the wrong answer, fucking narc.” 

Leon’s knee connected with Kiyotaka’s nose, snapping his head upward. He felt the blood beginning to flow before he saw the drops fall onto the concrete below. Kiyotaka’s vision went fuzzy, pain blooming across his whole face. He barely had managed to blink away the tears before he saw Leon standing by the edge, perching the bag on one hand, before he tipped it upside down. All the contents spilled out in a fountain of academic papers, books, notebooks and pencils cascading down the side of the building into a disorganized heap. The bag soon followed, floating down to lay softly on the ground, like the final pedal of a dying flower, picked of all it’s worth and left to rot. The two boys gauffed, dropping Kiyotaka, who slumped onto the ground, blood still pouring from his nose and staining his once-pristine uniform pants. A cold feeling had seeped into his bones, causing him to shiver violently. With each shiver, the cold feeling was replaced with a white hot cavern that started in his chest, spreading slowly to his limbs, spurring them to life. Kiyotaka jerked, his fists clenching harder until his knuckles were white. He staggered to his feet, raising his head slowly to face the now beaming Leon. 

The two boys stepped away from Kiyotaka, practically feeling the hate dripping from his skin. 

Kiyotaka took a single staggering step toward Leon, watching his smile falter. He rushed forward suddenly, hatred coursing through his veins as the first punch connected with Leon’s jaw, and sent him staggering backward. His back slammed into the ground, causing him to cough. Kiyotaka was on him in an instant, straddling the thinner boy’s waist. Leon couldn't even let out a cry of surprise before Kiyotaka’s fist was down upon him again. 

“IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED!’ Kiyotaka howled, rearing his fist back again

“TELL ME KUWATA!”

and again…

“IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED YOU BASTARD!”

and again. 

His first had hit Leon’s nose, much like his knee had Kiyotaka’s face. The second hit the same area, spewing the blood that was now flowing down Leon’s face, sticking onto Kiyotaka’s fist. The third hit his cheek. The fourth, fith, sixth were a blur.

With each punch, Kiyotaka’s tears flowed faster, mixing with his nosebleed. With each punch, he could feel his reputation being stained. With each punch, he could feel himself becoming farther and farther from his life goal. With each punch. He could feel himself. 

Becoming blackened. 

He paused, the burning sensation flowing out of his hands and leaving them trembling with exhaustion, staring down at Leon Kuwata’s face. His left eye was bruising, puffing up at a rapid pace, his lip busted and oozing blood, and his nose was bent oddly and was gushing like a fountain. The hot fire previously occupying Kiyotaka’s whole body froze in an instant. He brought down his shaking fist, opening his palm to stare in shock at the blood now seeping into the skin of his knuckles, staining him. He choked out a silent cry, slowly turning to look at the other two boys. Before he could even say a word, they sprinted off, the fear in their eyes. It made Kiyotaka shudder. They were scared of him.

Leon groaned softly beneath him, gasping in pain.

“Ah…’ he gasped, “oh fuck.” 

“Oh fuck..” he repeated, solidifying his statement. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oH FUCK!”, he brought his hands to cover his mouth, his breath quickening. 

“ _OH_ **_FUCK_ ** **_!”_ **

Kiyotaka screamed, quickly moving to get off of Leon, scrambling back. 

“Oh my God! What have i done! I… I have to… I should… I’m-”

Kiyotaka stuttered, curling into himself as he sat on the hard concrete, his front soaked with his own blood, his pants and hands soaked in blood that was not his. Rain pummeled down like bullets. 

Leon groaned again, raising his hand to his damaged face. 

Kiyotaka started, his mind freezing with only one thought.    
“I have to get you to the nurse’s office.”

He scrambled over to Leon, slipping his arm under the boy’s shoulder and coaxing him into a sitting position, urging him to stand. Leon was delirious, and losing a lot of blood. 

“Nurse’s office is closed.” Kiyotaka said out loud to himself, shouldering Leon, who slumped against him. 

“Chihiro. I need to call… Chihiro.” he quickly checked all his pockets, before realizing his phone had been in his bag… 

which was now 4 stories down…

.

.

.

.

  
  


Kiyotaka staggered down the hallway, supporting the combined weight of his own exhausted, rain soaked body, as well as Leon’s deadweight that was slumping heavily against his right shoulder. As he drew close to his room, he looked up to see a worried Hina, a small posse of higher grade male students, and the headmaster himself standing around Kiyotaka’s busted open doorway. Hina glanced over, catching eyes with Kiyotaka before crying out,    
“There they are!” 

Two of the older boys rushed over to ease the patched up but still delirious Leon off of Kiyotaka, and if he wasn't in the middle of the hallway, he would have collapsed right then and there. But the cold icy stare of the headmaster kept his mind awake for a couple more minutes.

“Good heavens” he muttered as he stepped nearer to the two boys. 

“What in God’s name happened.” His tone was accusatory, but also held an air of worry. 

And for the third time in Kiyotaka’s life, he just didn't know what to say. 

“I’m sorry… sir…” Is all he could muster. He must have looked miserable. Blood streaks across his lower lip and jaw, soaking into the collar of his shirt. Dirt grime and blood splattered his pants and the hem of his jacket, his eyes were hollow and dull, and his knuckles were stained red. 

The headmaster sighed, a look of disappointment shadowed his normal sour expression. 

“I expected better of you, Ishimaru. Hina has told me most of the story, but I expect to see you in my office tomorrow morning to inform me of the rest. Clean up and get some rest.”

If kiyotaka could cry any more today, he would. But he just felt empty. He nodded slowly, clutching at his wrist as he dropped his head to stare at the ground 

“Yes sir..” is all he could reply, feeling the headmaster brush past him and back down the hall. 

He stood there for a second more, feeling as if he didn't have the energy to move. His whole body felt numb. 

Hina hesitantly stepped closer to Kiyotaka, reaching out a hand as if to offer her help. He flinched back, refusing to look her in the eyes. 

“Thank you.” he choked out, “for telling the headmaster.” 

“Are you gonna be ok?” She reached out again, her tender voice only added insult to injury. 

“Yes.” he responded, more forceful than he intended. “I will be fine. You should get back to your room. It's against the rules to be out after nine pm.” He recited the rule verbatim, mostly to himself. He shuffled past Hina, letting his eyes finally raise as he scanned the damage done to his once-perfect dorm room. The couch pillows were still ripped open and scattered across the floor, but the overturned table was righted, and the main husks of his ruined textbooks were removed as well. He closed the door behind him, hearing it click shut the best it could with a broken lock, his back pressed up against it. He slid slowly down the wood, letting his face fall into his hands. He choked out a dry sob, balling his fists in his short hair as he tried desperately to cry. Nothing but a strangled wail emerged. No tears, just an urge to scream. He instead settled to dry heave. He dragged himself to the nearest trash can, which had been righted. He threw up what felt like all of his insides into it until only a thick bile remained, burning his tongue. He dry heaved until his throat was raw, spitting thick saliva and stomach acid into the bag. 

He used the counter to pull himself up into a standing position, his legs shaking beneath him as his whole body screamed in pain. He moved like a zombie, dragging his feet toward the bathroom. Once inside, he turned the water on it’s hottest setting, and peeled off his clammy disgusting uniform and stepping inside. The water scalded his skin, causing steam curls to rise off, but it wasn't nearly enough to get the stains off his skin. He scratched his nails against his face, hands, legs and torso, as if trying to remove his skin would remove the present along with it. His nails left white lines all across his pink body, he curled in on himself, letting his body sink to the floor, his knees slammed painfully into the linoleum flooring. He let his head fall, also painfully hitting his forehead against the tub floor. His nails dug into his shoulders, no doubt probably drawing blood. And in the safety of the burning embrace of his shower, he screamed. It was piercing and shrill, tapering off into a dull whimper before he could breathe again and begin the cycle over. He screamed until his voice became raw. He cried and wailed until his voice gave out. He cried until he could barely breathe. Yet still he screamed. Without a voice he screamed. He screamed until the water ran cold. Until his body shivered and his mouth tasted of blood. He screamed until his arms went numb from his grip. 

And when he couldn’t scream anymore, he stopped. He just sat in silence. 

Because there was nothing else he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAA I WORKED ON THIS FOR SO LONG PLZ LIKE AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKED IT ID REALLY APPRECIATE IT IM GONNA GO CRY NOW AAAAAA


	5. A Full View of the World as you Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaand this is the final chapter of the backstory segment! Now we get to the real fun! Enough sad stuff it’s time for ~✨A N T I C S!✨~

The headmaster’s office was dreadfully cold. Even with his thick hoodie he had to dig out from the back of his closet this morning, Kiyotaka shivered viciously. He couldn’t tell if the room was actually cold or it was due to the fact he hadn’t eaten since he threw up last night. His eyes were bloodshot and constantly on the verge of closing as he hadn’t slept a wink. He tried, laying in bed and staring up at the ceiling for hours. His mind ran each event from that day in painful detail every time he would try to drift off. 

Leon sat slouched in the wooden chair beside the trembling Kiyotaka, who for the first time in his life was not sitting completely straight. The wounds on Leon’s face had been treated with neutral colored band aids, and his nose had been splinted. His eye wasn’t as puffy, but a dark bruise had begun to spread across it. He had a constant frown displayed, as if showing his displeasure would make Kiyotaka feel worse than he already did.   
He finally glanced over at the raven-haired boy, noticing his outfit. 

“What’s with the getup? You get tired of wearing that stuffy old thing?” 

His smirk was nothing but condescending, the corner of his lips drawing up in a crooked smile, a dry laugh dripping with sarcasm and spite.  
Kiyotaka’s fingers dug into the sweatpants that hung loosely and pooled around his ankles, his vacant stare never leaving it’s spot on the headmaster’s desk as he spoke,

“I would be wearing my uniform, if some degenerate hadn’t desecrated them last night. Unlike you, I have pride in what I wear.” 

His dull eyes slid over to stare blankly at Leon,

“But you wouldn’t know anything about that. Would you, Leon?”

A satisfying flash of anger shot over Leon’s face. His arms crossed tighter over his chest as he puffed it out, “You little fucker, you wanna throw down or some shit!”  
Leon’s voice cracked as he spoke, rising in volume and leaning toward Kiyotaka, 

“Oh please, Leon, did you already forget the events that occurred last night? I did not think you would be so eager to test your luck again so soon.”   
Kiyotaka replied as if he was detesting a pet for bad behavior. His tone remained level with each insult, his eyes returning slowly to the same spot, as if to brush off Leon entirely.   
The redhead gulped, instinctively raising his hand to brush over his scabbed broken lip. 

Like clockwork, the headmaster entered the room, sighing heavily as he walked past the two troubled boys. His long coat swished behind him with the elegance one would expect. He was an older man with a thick dark brown beard speckled with gray and white hairs. Thin wire framed glasses sat on the edge of his nose. All the easier to leer at misbehaving students through. Before he had even pulled his chair out, he was already beginning his speech. 

“Now, as I'm sure you know already, I am very disappointed in the both of you. Especially you, Ishimaru. I expected better out of one of the school’s best students.”  
The boy merely nodded slowly once, tensing up as the headmaster addressed him. As if letting the mood settle and his words sink in, he paused, looking slowly from one boy’s face to the next and back again before continuing with another heavy sigh.

“But, as i can’t say i have heard both sides of the story, Leon, would you mind retelling what happened last night?” 

Leon shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable when the headmaster’s piercing eyes settled on him.   
“W-well… It started out with Chihiro coming to me yesterday.”  
“Chihiro, that's the young boy I see you around campus with, correct Kiyotaka?”  
Kiyotaka nodded again, keeping silent. Leon continued,  
“He came to be bawling. Like, he was crying so hard he couldn’t hardly speak. All i heard was him mention this fucker’s-”  
A sharp glare from the headmaster made Leon stutter to change his wording  
“U-uh Kiyotaka’s.. Name. So I figured the worst had happened. I told him to meet me on the roof so I could confront him, but he wouldn’t tell me what happened. So i uh.. Roughed him up a bit. A-And then he totally jumped on me! He broke my nose! He punched me like ten times!”  
Leon’s pitch had risen to a hysterical level, gesturing wildly at Kiyotaka. 

“seven times”   
Kiyotaka finally spoke up, cutting Leon off.   
“Excuse me?-“   
“If you’re going to tell the story, tell it correctly. I punched you seven times. And you punched me twice, and kneed me in the face. And ruined my uniforms, tore apart my textbooks threw my bag over the side of the roof and-”  
“Who’s telling the story here asshole!” Leon yelled over Kiyotaka’s accusations, his voice trembling with fear.   
“Continue, Leon.”  
“Uhh well… After that I kinda can't remember the rest of it. I woke up the next morning in my bed with a splitting headache and dried blood all over my face.”  
The headmaster nodded, mulling over the young boy’s story before turning to Kiyotaka.   
“I see. Now, Kiyotaka, would you mind telling me what you recall of yesterday?”   
Leon’s leg began to bounce, bringing up his hand to his face as he bit at what little nail was left on his index finger.   
“Of course.” Kiyotaka began,   
“I broke up with Chihiro. He got upset and wouldn’t listen to me and left. I’m assuming then he went to Leon. I then went to the gym to work off some energy, and there I ran into Aoi Asahina. We talked for a bit, and headed back to the dormitories. But when we got there, my door had been kicked in and my things destroyed. I found a note attached to knives and forks stabbed into my wall. I have the note here, if you would care to read it.”   
He pulled the crinkled note out of his pocket, his hand shaking as he extended it out, as if that mere action had made his muscles scream in agony. The headmaster took the note, his keen eyes scanning over the crinkled page.   
“And you said you found this…”   
“Attached to the knives and forks stabbed into my wall, yes.”   
The headmaster's frown deepened as he slipped the note into his case file,   
“Continue.” He muttered, ushering for Kiyotaka to speak.   
“I naturally wanted to bring whoever had ruined my room to justice, so I left to head to the roof. Hina tried to stop me, but I refused and told her to tell you about the predicament, so if anything were to happen to me there would be irrefutable evidence and also help close by.   
When I got to the roof, Leon and a group of boys I had never seen before quickly followed. Before I could apprehend him, however, he grabbed me and began to shake me violently while yelling that I “tell him what I did.” At this point I had no indicators that this was attached to my breakup with Chihiro, so I was very confused. He proceeded to punch me in the face and threaten me. His friends grabbed me and held me aside while he threatened to throw my textbooks, phone, and other academic papers off the side of the roof. And when I didn’t comply, he kneed me in the face and proceeded to do exactly as he proclaimed. His friends had let go of me to gloat and laugh at my pain.”   
Kiyotaka paused, that all too familiar sense of dread washing over him. He took a shaky breath and continued the story. Continued with the truth.   
“I… th-then proceeded to knock him to the ground and punch him 7 times.. before I had realized what I had done. Th-then… i helped carry him to his room where you all were waiting.” 

The headmaster nodded slowly, his hands clasped in front of his mouth as he stared past the boys.   
“I see.. Well then. This is quite the interesting situation.”   
He sat pondering for what seemed like an eternity, the air growing stale in the room. Kiyotaka felt his throat closing, like his lungs refused to let him live. Not wanting to cause any more of a scene than he had already, he stayed quiet, breathing soft and slow as he tried to shuffle through each emotion to avoid being overtaken and breaking down again.  
The headmaster suddenly clapped, startling the two as they jumped in their seats.  
“Kiyotaka, it seems you have already atoned for your mistakes, and your apologies are punishment enough. I will not put this on your record. Leon, since you destroyed private property, you will have to pay out of pocket for all the things you defaced.”   
Leon gaped in shock at the headmaster, ‘Y-You can't be serious! He broke my nose! You’re tellin me I gotta pay him back?!”   
Leon stood up in a huff, slamming his hands on the headmaster’s desk,  
“Yes, that's exactly what i'm saying. Kiyotaka, you may leave now. I've discussed everything I called you here for.”   
Before Leon could make another accusation or fabricate a lie, Kiyotaka stood up stiffly and bowed, and left, the shouts in protest following his leave. 

Kiyotaka was curled up in his thin blanket, letting himself stare blankly at the wall in front of him. He had been doing so for hours at a time, unsure of what to do. He had no energy to clean, no material to study. All he could do was lay there and feel empty. He hadn't gone to classes since the incident that happened two days ago. Hina had brought the paperwork from the few classes he hadn't realized they had together, offering to do some menial chores and bring him hot meals. But Kiyotaka had felt guilty for having her even bringing the papers, so he politely declined. She looked disappointed and almost sad at his rejection, but Kiyotaka couldn't bear the thought of anyone knowing the state of his room. It was much like the state of his mind. Messy, dark and hopeless. 

A sudden and quiet knock on his door snapped him out of the episode he was slowly and steadily slipping into. He sat up, pushing the covers off of him and exposing his skin to the bitter cold. He sighed, patting his face to make it seem flush and more alive than he felt. His hand hovered over the doorknob, unsure of who would be on the opposite side. The quiet knocking came again, spurring him into action. He slowly cracked open the door, peering with one eye out of the slit, light pouring into his dark room.   
He hadn't expected to see Chihiro standing there, his face pink from the exertion of carrying three heavy textbooks.   
“U-uhm… Hi.” He smiled nervously up at Kiyotaka, “Mind if i come in? These are… kinda heavy.”   
“Ah.. sure.”  
Kiyotaka moved away from the door, allowing Chihiro to enter.   
Chihiro viewed the room with a shocked expression. Apparently news hadn’t travelled quickly. He took the three heavy books from Chihiro’s hands, setting them on his kitchen table, which he hadn’t noticed had deep scratches in it until now. Great. Another thing he would have to fix.   
Kiyotaka moved toward his bed, settling himself down with a heavy sigh among the shroud of blankets.   
“Wh.. what happened, taka?”   
Those were the only words he could think of. The nickname made Kiyotaka’s skin crawl. If he had said it a day ago, it would have brought a certain warm joy to his heart. But now all it brought was bad memories and discomfort.   
“Thank you for the books, Chihiro, but i think you should leave.”  
He rubbed a hand down his tired face, letting his gaze settle on Chihiro. He stood out like a beacon in the dark, but Kiyotaka’s eyes had grown used to the inky blackness, and the light hurt too bad to look at.   
“Taka, please i just want to talk-”  
Chihiro started, taking a step forward before halting as Kiyotaka raised a single hand, cradling his head in the other.   
“Chihiro, please. I don't want to talk right now.”

“I’m sorry, if this is my fault, just tell me! I know i overreacted and i just want things to go back to how they were-”  
The smaller blonde took another step forward, his voice straining as he rapidly apologized.

“Chihiro, Just STOP!”   
His fingers dug into his hair, grabbing handfuls as he tightened his grip, dropping his head lower. As if he was trying to block out his words, escape the world, ignore him completely. He just wanted to go back to his life of solitude. Before all of this happened.   
“If you really want to know, just go and ask Leon. I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you his rendition of what happened. But please, just leave. Leave me alone.”   
He could feel the familiar sob crawling up his throat, but no tears came, he still felt empty. 

“Taka,” again with that sweet tone, that loving voice, it made him bitter, “Just talk to me, I’m here for you, remember? You can tell me.”

As Chihiro stood his ground, taking another step toward Kiyotaka, he knew deep down there was just one way he would get Chihiro to leave him alone… for good. With a bitter resolve, he stood up and bared his teeth,  
“I said, LEAVE ME ALONE!” His voice cracked from the force at which the words came out, “jesus, Chihiro, do you ever fucking listen? I told you to leave me alone. I told you to leave, and yet here you are! Standing like a fucking stain on my life. And for what? To be friends?!” He spat the word, “All of what happened… it's all your fault. I should have NEVER talked to you. I should have never let you get close to me. Because all you’ve done is ruin my life.” with each sentence he pushed Chihiro toward the door which was still slightly ajar,   
“Does anyone ever actually listen to me? Why does it seem so many people want to push and prod and sit there, pretending they are doing the right thing? I told you leave, so just LEAVE!”   
With that last declaration, Chihiro stumbled out the door, staring up with tears in his eyes as Kiyotaka stood at the door, one hand grasping it’s edge.   
“I don’t know why you all think you know me.” he muttered with a bitter laugh, “You don't. So stop pretending like I'm some kind of project you can make better. We are not friends. We will never be friends. Don't ever talk to me again.”   
He slammed the door, letting his residual anger wash over him before being replaced with the cold truth of what he had just said. Every word was false, and every word burrowed itself deeper into his skin like an infection. He hated lying, but he hated the hurt expression Chihiro had worn more. 

The rest of the year played out similarly to his first. He was alone for the majority of his time, throwing himself into his studies and losing track of time while absorbing as much information as he could. He easily caught up with the two days of class he had missed, but it seemed like more attention was drawn to him. People would shoulder him in the hallway, knock things off his desk as they walked by and giggled to themselves.   
Chihiro would glare at him from across the room.   
Not like he was looking.   
He no longer wore his uniform, no longer marched intimidatingly down the hall. Instead he sulked, wearing bland baggy hoodies and joggers mostly. He tried to disappear as much as possible, blend into the crowd. For the most part it worked, if no one talked to him, or even laid eyes on him. But every now and then, someone would greet him warmly, or try to strike up a conversation, and he would feel eyes on him. Judging his every move. 

Through all this, he drowned his every emotion in his studies and passed with flying colors. His parents had shown up to graduation all beaming smiles and cheerful words, his mother squeezing him in a backbreaking hug that crushed all the air out of his lungs as tears of joy sprung into her eyes. His father had glassy eyes and had also given him an equally strong hug, both exclaiming their praises and happiness.   
“You’ve made us both very proud, son.” His father had said to him before they left, his mother piping in “and were both so excited to see what you’ll accomplish next.” 

Kiyotaka stood in his dorm room, surrounded by a few boxes and his main suitcase carrying everything he owned. He had packed up all his belongings, making sure to deep clean the room for it’s next patron. Sure, there were still a few scratches in the table he wasn't able to buff out, and a hole or two in the wall he had missed, but it almost looked brand new. He stood proudly, his hands poised on his hips. A firm knock at the door made him jump slightly, a small bit of anxiety settling somewhere deep in his mind. He wasn't sure who would be at his door, nor was he exactly excited to find out. But as he opened the door, he was attacked by a vicious and strong hug around his midsection. Hina giggled with excited glee as she latched onto Kiyotaka, yelling out some version of “Surprise hug!”   
Kiyotaka lurched back at the sudden thrust, throwing him off balance.   
“Hina!” he exclaimed, feeling a laugh bubbling up in his throat. Damn, she really could make anyone feel better.   
“Of course silly! Who else is brave enough to visit your mopey butt!”   
She let him go, poking him in the stomach as she stepped back.   
“I just wanted to make sure I saw you before we both head off into the big wide world and probably never see each other again.”   
Hina laughed again, staring around his now-bare room, “Wow, you really cleaned up fast. I haven’t even started.” she shrugged, wandering farther into his room and looking around.   
“Yeah,” he merely responded, “I just kind of got in a groove. I mean without classes anymore, what else was I going to do.”   
Hina turned to him suddenly,   
“Uhh.. party! Duh! School’s over! Time to kick back and chillax! Ride them waves!”   
She jumped onto his couch and mimed the actions she said, causing a smile to finally break out across his face.   
“You forget, Hina, I’m not a partier.” he jokingly pushed her back, watching as she clutched her chest and gasped loudly, falling back onto the plush cushions as she stuck out her tongue,   
“Oh! Oh Kiyotaka, you make me so… borreddd! It’s killing me! You're killing me with your boringness!”   
Kiyotaka chuckled, rolling his eyes at the overexpressive swimmer, walking past her to get a few things he hadn’t packed up yet.   
She rolled over onto her stomach and propped her head up to watch him. Her eyes followed his every movement.   
“Have you even been to ONE party?” she questioned, kicking her legs slowly behind her.   
Kiyotaka sighed comically, “Do you really think i would subject myself to hours of loud music, illegal drinking and bad decisions? I’m sure I would have so much fun.” He scoffed sarcastically, bumping her forehead with the glass he held in his hand. SHe screwed up her nose, giggling as she popped up from the couch so quickly it almost made Kiyotaka’s head spin.   
“Alright, you got me there detective. So, what is Mr. Studious going to do after you leave? What’s your great plan that's gonna send the world into its’ next big breakthrough!”   
Hina followed closely behind Kiyotaka as he wandered the small dorm room, throwing her hands up with fervent excitement. Kiyotaka felt himself smile, turning to Hina, who was bouncing like a child.

“If you're going to be here for much longer, find somewhere you won't be in the way.”   
His words seemed harsh, but his tone was gentle enough to convey his true message. He wanted Hina to stay, but she was honestly getting a little annoying following him to and fro. She huffed and puffed out her cheeks, pouting, before sticking her tongue out at him and flopping into a nearby chair.   
“Fine Mr. Grumpy! But you better answer my question.”   
“Of course” he responded, moving around her, “I’m going to run for prime minister.”   
He continued what he was doing, like the phrase he had just uttered was the most normal thing he could say. But he could feel Hina’s eyes boring into him.   
“... wait really?” she finally said, looking incredulously at him.   
“Well, of course. Did you think I was lying? It's been a dream of mine since i was very little. Do you think i can't?”   
“No! No no not at all i think you'd be really good and… stuff.. But that's like a really big goal. Like.. i just want to be a pro swimmer. Your plan makes mine look like child’s play. Wow. Prime minister. That’s crazy dude!”   
He hummed in agreement, closing the final box. 

“Well,” She continued, “you look much better.”   
He paused in the middle of picking up a glass, a quizzical expression on his face as he turned back to her.   
“You know, after that whole thing. You kinda… holed up for a while. Which i totally understand is like your preferred coping mechanism. I'm just happy to see you looking like your good ole self again.” She gave him a genuine warm smile. His old self, he pondered, he didn’t think he had changed that much, but it was apparent to everyone but himself, he had changed.   
Hina jumped out of the chair,   
“Welp! You’ve inspired me to start packing, so I should be on my way. I’m gonna miss you old man.” She joked, flinging her arms out, waiting for Kiyotaka to initiate the hug. He chuckled, rolling his eyes yet again at Hina’s antics as he slinked into her open arms, pulling the smaller girl into a tight hug.   
“You’re gonna do great things in the world, Kiyotaka. I just know it.” She whispered in his ear as she pulled away from the hug and left Kiyotaka’s sight for the last time.   
.  
.  
.  
.  
He stared at the tv screen, his mouth opened in a slight ‘o’ shape, his eyes wide. His face was inches away from the screen, feeling the buzz of electricity. He couldn’t believe it. His mind would simply not let him comprehend the facts presented in front of him.   
He had lost. He had lost, and he wasn’t prime minister. He felt a heavy and sickening curdling feeling start in his stomach. It worked its way slowly up his veins, leaving behind a trail of fire that only grew in intensity the longer he sat. He felt the tears begin to fall, but he was so far into his own mind that he hadn’t even realized he had been crying. 

He stood up slowly, staggering over to his desk. He felt like he was going to throw up. A thick foul bile rose in his throat.   
In a sudden hot white fit of rage, he slammed his hands onto the desk and swept everything off as a furious yell ripped it’s way up his throat. Papers, notebooks, pens and pencils scattered the floor. The lamp toppled off the desk, the lightbulb shattered upon impact, showering the floor with glass shards and engulfing Kiyotaka into darkness. But he didn’t stop there. He grabbed the sturdy old chair where he had done so much work on and lifted it, smashing it into the ground. He continued this tirade in a blind rage, anything he could break with his hands was broken. Anything that was throwable was thrown. With one last fit of rage, he reared back his hand and punched the table he had not 5 minutes ago been seated at, awaiting the results with a childlike glee. The table didn’t budge. 

Of course it didn’t. 

The sudden sharp pain was enough to snap Kiyotaka out of the veil of red that covered his eyes. He gasped and stared down at his hand, his knuckles seeping blood through the skin he had broken. It was already starting to swell up and throbbed dully. He surveyed the damage he caused to his apartment as he slumped to the ground, a hiccuping sob escaped from his lips, followed by another, and another. He curled in on himself, dropping his face in his hands. He cried until he had nothing left to cry. Dry heaves and sobs tore through his throat until he could barely breathe. So there, Kiyotaka Ishimaru sat, alone, in pain, and broken. He had no friends, no job, and no dreams. No hope.   
the afternoon news played softly in the background as his life crumbled around him.   
Because while his world was falling apart, life moved on without him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lik if u cry everytim


	6. A regular James Hickok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The obligatory Arch Nemesis introductory chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really the last chapter of backstory i swear! Next chapter actually has Mondo in it!

The phone buzzed silently in his pocket. The only light in the dim apartment. Kiyotaka had sat there, shrouded in darkness, slumped over with his head in his hands for only god knows how long. He jumped at the vibration, hastily reaching into his pocket to uncover the number. He recognized it. 

It was the number of his opponent. The new prime minister. 

With shaking hands he answered the phone. 

“..hello?” His voice was quiet, timid. He wasn’t sure if the man over the phone could hear his shaky breathing and feel his distress.

“Ishimaru! Dear boy, have you seen the news?” 

The older man answered with a cheerful tone that was almost saturated in pride. 

“Yes. Congratulations.” He muttered in return, clutching his phone with both hands to his ear. 

“Ah thank you, yes, it’s quite the shame. You were superb to run against, truly superb! I thought for sure you would have beaten me. But alas, we cannot change the past so we must look to the future, dear boy!” He chuckled softly, Kiyotaka could almost feel his patronizing smile through the phone. 

“Yes. The future.” He echoed, feeling like a robot. 

“Speaking of the future, if you’re free this week, I would like to meet up with you for a nice luncheon. There are some things I’d like to discuss with you. Ah- that’s the door. Sorry I can’t talk much longer, but I wish to hear from you soon! See you tomorrow.” And without another second to ask any questions, the man hung up, leaving Kiyotaka in the deafening silence again. 

The luncheon was indeed the next day, at some small mom and pop restaurant. The new Prime minister was dressed to the nines, a brilliantly ironed suit paired well with the expensive jewelry he adorned himself with. Most likely gifts from friends or family as a congratulations. 

Kiyotaka felt extremely underdressed sitting across from the pompous all-smiles politician, his simple suit he had to throw on that morning in a panic still had creases from the last time he had worn it. The last time being at a performative rally, back when he still had ambition and a hopeful gleam in his eye. Back when he had ideas and goals to make a bright future for those he loved, for those he cared about. Just yesterday. And there he sat, feeling empty again. Except this time, there was no returning. 

He stared down at the still-full cup of coffee he had ordered, watching the steam curl off it’s voidlike surface. He didn’t even like coffee. His vision flicked up toward the politician, barely tuning in on whatever self important talk he was expressively spouting. Something about his connections with people in high up positions and his ancestor’s history. Kiyotaka cradled the porcelain mug in both hands and slowly lifted it to his lips, letting the pungent scent fill his senses and burn his hands. He tipped the cup to let the burning liquid touch his lips, and scald his tongue as it passed through. The flavor was simple and bitter, it almost made his nose wrinkle with disgust. Almost. It made his mouth feel dry. 

“Ishimaru? Are you listening, dear boy?” 

Kiyotaka’s brow twitched at the undermining nickname he had bestowed upon him. 

“Of course, Mr. Kenryoka. You were speaking about your daughter and her spectacular talents.” 

He praised his intuition and quick thinking, catching the tail end of his discussion. His red eyes rose to meet the politician’s mildly shocked expression. 

“Ah, yes. Of course. It seems we got a bit off topic.” He smiled politely, placing his utensils down he had been previously using to scarf down the three course meal he had ordered. It was almost fascinating watching him talk and eat at the same time. He had started the conversation and led most of it with a few interjections from Kiyotaka to keep the conversation alive when Kenryoku had run a topic dry. Kiyotaka glanced at the clock, noticing how a whole hour had passed by since the two had arrived at the restaurant. 

“As i've mentioned before, you really were a spectacular candidate to run against! Especially for your age. Your knowledge of politics and the necessities to run this great country even rivaled mine, I must say!” He chuckled again, wiping his mouth with the cloth provided. If Kiyotaka received that compliment a day ago, it would have made his cheeks flush and made him at a loss for words. Praise was never easy to come by and always shocked him. But now, with his recent acknowledgement of what even his studies couldn’t prepare him for, he had made a realization. No matter how hard he tried, or how much the people had loved him and his ideas. No matter how much he was praised for his skill as a leader, he would never be Prime Minister. The reason he lost the election wasn’t his lack of skill or discipline. It was his lack of connections. Politics was a slippery and dangerous road. It was full of conniving and evil people who had little interest in who they were overseeing but rather more interest in its power, status, and financial gains. With that knowledge, the compliment seemed backhanded, snarky, and almost made him frown. Instead he replied calmly, 

“Thank you sir, it was an honor to run against you as well. Congratulations, again.” 

“Yes, well, my committee and I were discussing and have come to an agreement. We like the way you think. And we’ve decided, and I hope you agree, that your militant excellence only comes once in a lifetime!” 

Kiyotaka continued to stare blankly at Kenryoku, causing the man to stutter and blush, raising a hand to hastily tug at his tie. 

“Ah, enough buttering up, I assume.” he laughed nervously, “We want you to join our program.” 

“Program?’ 

“W-well yes!” He chirped, seemingly pleased he had piqued Kiyotaka’s interest. 

“Only the best of the best are hand chosen to participate. All classes will be paid for by our very own government. It will be an intense training, though, but you did graduate from Hope's peak academy, and with flying colors might I add, I have no doubt this will be a breeze for you!” 

As Kenryoku rattled off fact after fact about this mysterious “program”, it slowly dawned on Kiyotaka what he meant. He wanted Kiyotaka to enroll in the secret service. To be the lead dogs of the military and right hand to the government. He wouldn’t be a figurehead, like if he was Prime Minister, he would be the hands and feet that guided it’s control. He would take lives, trade secrets and do their dirty work behind closed doors and shadowy hallways. 

As if mulling over everything, he took a long slow drink of that bitter burning liquid caffeine. He could come to appreciate it’s destructive taste. Kenryoku’s smile quivered as he fiddled with his tie and awaited an answer. 

“Yes.” Kiyotaka finally concluded, “I will graciously accept your invitation. When do I start?” 

Before Kiyotaka could blink, he was standing in front of Satsujin School for Gifted Youth. 

The iron wrought front gates lay behind him like a barrier, sealing in his fate for the next year and a half. He could already spot groups of children and teens practicing various activities from paced runs, hand to hand combat and even target practice. Most were with bows and arrows but some of the older students had simple handguns. Almost every age was present, but it seemed like only those in the same grade interacted. 

He was greeted promptly, debriefed, had his bag taken and handed a simple set of gym clothes, a pair of black track shorts and a white shirt. Every student wore the same outfit, regardless of gender or age. 

He was led over to a small group of young adults, some of them looking hardened and unfazed, while others seemed to be new and still settling into the lifestyle. They had just finished a round of pushups, shaking their arms out as he approached. A grizzly old woman was standing at their lead, grey streaked across her hair and the corners of her eyes were crinkled with age. All eyes turned to him as he approached, some were bright with delight while others showed sympathy. He was fresh meat. 

The old woman’s keen eyes landed on him, immediately picking up each little flaw in his form. His muscles immediately clenched upon meeting her cold icy stare. 

“Name!” She barked, giving no context. It wasn’t a question. 

“Ishimaru, Kiyotaka, ma’am!” He barked back instinctually and bowed deeply for a second before raising to meet her gaze. 

“Ishimaru, you're late. And since you are late, you’ll have to warm up on your own. Your sparring partner is Kirigiri, down at the end. Don’t keep her waiting.”

Kiyotaka wasn’t late. He was never late. In fact, he was exactly on time with what Kenryoku had told him, but he was absolutely not about to argue with his superiors. So instead, he bowed again with a loud, “yes ma’am!” and hurried to do a quick warm up before jogging over to the woman she had pointed at. She was frail looking, Kiyotaka thought as he sized her up. She had long silver hair tied into a ponytail that even when pulled up was at the middle of her back. She had shadowy Lavender eyes that almost begged him to underestimate her. The woman stood at one end, surveying the small group in front of her before starting instruction. 

“Alright trainees. In the field, you will no doubt run into trouble. And in those circumstances you will need to learn self defence. Every day we will have practice, and every day you will get with the sparring partner I have assigned you to. For those who have never sparred before, the goal is to take down your opponent through any means necessary. Ishimaru, I’m sure you’ll pick up quickly. And Kirigiri, go easy on him.” He heard the couple beside him snicker, all eyes watching his next moves. The woman blew a harsh whistle, signalling a flurry of movement beside him as partners moved to strike at each other. Kirigiri stood motionless in front of him, holding her hands up in a lazy ready position. He could feel her egging him on, wanting him to strike first. 

He kept a keen eye on her hands, mirroring her movements as she slowly moved to circle him, her face remaining a cold expression of calculated expertise. He had very little training in hand to hand combat, but he had no doubt he could hold himself up with whatever she decided to throw at him. 

She struck first, her movements like a viper as she flashed out her hand, aiming at his neck before ducking down and grabbing onto his leg. Before he got a chance to move it away, she pushed her whole weight forward and rolled, bringing his leg with her. He lurched forward, completely thrown off balance. He windmilled his arms wildly while trying to yank his leg back. Her grip was like steel on his calf as she stood up, pulling his leg upward and successfully knocking him completely over. He fell heavily, his chin knocking against the ground as he fell onto his hands. Pain shot up across his forehead and up his wrists, an aching burning feeling settled around his eyes and the front of his skull. 

He scrambled up, his breath already coming out in short bursts as he turned to look at the girl. She flicked her hair out as a smug grin. 

He could see the teacher’s equally smug grin as he glanced over at her for a single second. But a second was all it took before Kirigiri was on him again, a surprisingly hard blow catching him in the stomach as he stumbled back, feeling a sudden rush of nausea as he doubled over. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he forced down the foul bile that threatened to overflow from his mouth. 

“Any means necessary” he repeated in his head as he struggled to stand up straight. He furrowed his brow, pushing one foot behind him as he squared himself into a stable position. 

“What’s wrong Ishimaru? Are you getting cold feet?” One of the older looking students jeered beside him, sharing a short barking laugh with his partner. 

Kiyotaka kept his eyes straight on Kirigiri as he spat the foul mixture of bile and tangy blood onto the grass, 

‘I have no qualms with punching a woman.” He growled, beginning to circle Kirigiri again. The smug smile stayed plastered on her lips as she moved with him, like some kind of strange slow waltz . He wasn’t going to wait for her to decide when to strike again. His next step slid across the grass like the silent steps of an advancing tiger. He dug his heel in the ground and lunged forward, hand outstretched. Kirigiri moved her arm out of his reach with lightning quick movements, steadying herself in a mere second, not realizing his true intent. He wasn't aiming for her arm. His hand tangled into her silvery hair, grabbing as much of a handful as he could and jerked it down with all the force his body allowed, catching her off balance as she yelped. Her back arched into the pain, her right leg lifting off the ground. Using the distraction and downward movement, he flashed out his other hand and grabbed her forearm, pulling it behind her and finishing off her momentum to push her to the ground. His own body followed naturally, his knees slamming down on either side of her thighs as he pinned her to the ground. 

He let a prideful smile slip onto his lips as he let her hand go when she writhed beneath him. 

As he stood up, he glanced around, relishing in the surprised and almost comical expressions of his peers and teacher. 

He rolled his shoulders as Kirigiri slowly stood up, dusting off the front of her shirt, which was now stained. 

“There,” he spoke softly, “Now we're even.” 

Her eyes narrowed at his comment, her smile now turned into a haunting grimace. She said nothing in return, but followed up his statement by dropping into an actual steady pose, her hands pointed like daggers as she stared him down. Without a second to wait, she lunged toward him, raising her hand and striking him hard. He barely had time to bring up his arm to shield it before she was already striking out again. He had mere seconds to center himself as she adjusted her footing before aiming for his stomach again. He knocked her hand off course, grabbing her arm. She twisted it out of his grip, bringing up her knee and catching him in the stomach again. But instead of crumpling, he reached down quickly and grabbed her leg and held it against him. He could see the panic in her eyes as he shoved her backward, watching her stumble before regaining her balance. She let out a furious yell, clearly not used to losing. After that, her blows became heavier, aiming for vital areas such as his neck and joints. The malice in her eyes was practically tangible. He was beginning to match her tempo, keeping his eyes locked on her expression as he learned that was the easiest sign of her next move. She had thrown him on his back once more and he returned the favor, forcing her back with harsh blows of his own as he stepped toward her with each strike. For a final throw down he repeated the same movement she had begun with, dropping down and flinging his leg out, catching her by her ankle. She was thrown off balance, but to finish it off, he grabbed her heel, holding it at an oddly high angle and making it impossible for her to catch her balance, before giving it a little shove and watching her topple backwards. 

With that one final move, it was stapled into their collective conscience. From this moment on, she was his competition. 

  
  


As time passed, the two tryhards fought amongst themselves on the race to the top. Each training session felt more and more like a war, fighting for absolute perfection. At first it seemed like friendly banter between rivals, her steady jeers and stabs at him, and his muted but seething replies. Their duties weren’t necessarily a cakewalk, but Kiyotaka’s background did help him out considerably as he already had good study habits and was generally toned for their intense workouts and training sessions. Sure, physics and algebra were replaced with weapons classes and memorizing poison types, scents and uses. And sure competition was cutthroat. But it was just like any school life. 

He had heard rumors of students going manic in their siege to gain top points. It was told that they became englufed in their desire to achieve perfection that it drove them to murder their competition. He scoffed at the idea, he had never believed it until a heavyweight nearly bludgeoned off his head as he exited one of the school buildings. Sure enough when he raised his eyes to see the culprit, Kirigiri stood near the edge, staring that same cold bitter stare down at him. He shuddered inwardly, the weight and pressure of everything truly setting in that moment. 

Stress, anxiety and worry all came to a head at the final graduation day. But even then, Kiyotaka could feel Kirigiri’s hatred for him oozing out of her. Even as Kenryoku walked up to Kiyotaka with open arms and an all-too bright smile, he could feel Kirigiri’s eyes burrowing into the back of his skull. 

Kenryoku patted Kiyotaka on the shoulder, shaking him a little in a somewhat fatherly manner. 

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, Ishimaru, of course you would pass with perfect grades! There is no one I would rather have more as my right hand than you.” 

His comment was cheerful in tone, but Kiyotaka could read beneath the lines. What Kenryoku was really saying was, “I know you will carry out every single order i tell you to so that i won't have to get my hands dirty.” 

As the years slowly passed, Kiyotaka slowly rose the ranks. He was started out small, watching targets from the shadows and giving intel to those above him, carrying out unknown assassinations of drug abusers who caused problems and created public outbursts. 

  
  


His first important mission was nerve wracking. 

He was told to go to a small weapons shop secretly affiliated with the organization to get fitted for his own personal guns, apparently a big step in the ranking system. You were trusted enough to receive your very own weapons. 

As he approached the small shop, his thoughts ran wild in his head. What would he say? Was there a secret code word? Who was he even looking for. 

Kiyotaka wiped at his face, letting out a frustrated sigh as he entered the quaint shop. 

It seemed normal at first, animal heads adorning every free space on the wall that wasn't covered in an unreal amount of guns. Every type and make imaginable was on display. From the smallest handguns laying inconspicuously in it’s glass case to automatic rifles gleaming menacingly on the wall. The bell by the door tinkled softly, settling into the atmosphere that smelt of dyed leather and cigar smoke. He heard a soft voice call from the cloth that covered the doorway to the backrooms, “Be out in a second!” 

The voice was marginally deep, a slight twang of an accent pulling at each vowel. 

Kiyotaka blinked in surprise as the man emerged from the backrooms. He hadn’t expected to see a man fully adorned in a cowboy get up. The hat laid softly on his long golden locks that curled around his ears and neck, flipping up in the back. He heard the soft clacking when the man walked, indicating he was indeed wearing spurs. A thin gold detail decorated the side of his vest, crawling up like lightning onto his chest. He was adjusting the dark leather gloves over the thin puffy sleeves that laid softly over his arms as he sauntered slowly over to the front counter. When the man raised his eyes to meet Kiyotaka’s gaze, he noticed the man’s left eye was duller than the other, a long jagged scar extending past his lash line and above into his brow. 

“Howdy there, sir, what can i do for ya today?” The man drawled, his voice barely muffled by the cloth bandana that covered the lower half of his face. This man looked truly like a cowboy from some old Western movie. 

“Ah, well I- '' Kiyotaka wasn't sure what to say, his one worry now becoming a reality. What did he say? ‘Yeah i'm here to get guns so i can kill people for the government’? Luckily, the strange man interrupted his thoughts with a hearty laugh, 

“I'm just messing with you, I know who you are, Kiyotaka Ishimaru.” 

His enthusiastic reply surprised Kiyotaka, he seemed so friendly and welcoming. Nothing like he had expected a man who deals with the government’s consorts would act. 

He extended his gloved hand over the glass counter, cocking his head to stare at Kiyotaka with his good eye from underneath his hat. 

“Th’ name’s Coulson Theodore Van Wohlheter, but you can just call me Teddy.” 

Teddy smiled beneath his mask, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he stared down Kiyotaka. He took Teddy’s hand, shaking it firmly. 

“Now then!” Teddy clapped his hands together with a childlike glee shining in his eyes. 

“What are ya lookin’ for? We’ve got a wide selection of handguns, silencers, rifles, snipers, we got machine guns, explosives you name it, pal!” 

He gestured to each weapon as he said them, staring expectantly at Kiyotaka. 

“I’m… not sure, exactly. I am not too familiar with guns.” 

His gaze flicked between each type of gun, 

“Not a problem, not a problem at all! In fact, that's almost better. Remind me, what job do you got again? Some kinda murder i assume.” He chuckled to himself, spurring into motion as he moved to scan the panels overflowing with firearms in front of him. 

“Do you need a silencer? A handgun? Is it at a fancy party where everyone is wearing masks and you gotta blend in?” 

His torrent of questions barely allowed Kiyotaka to get a word in edgewise, opening his mouth to speak before being interrupted again. 

“I- I believe it’s a distanced assasination.” He felt weird saying those words aloud, like he was being tricked. Teddy stopped in his track, a whole different type of glee enveloping his features. 

“Oh! You’re here for a personal sniper rifle!” He rushed over, pulling Kiyotaka’s hands into his own gloved ones, 

“This is going to be so much fun! Please, please come into the back and we’ll get you all set up!” 

Squeezing Kiyotaka’s hand softly, Teddy was gone in a flash. The only remnants of his presence was the swish of the cloth like a ghost in the wind. 

Kiyotaka stared after the strange man with a bewildered expression, the cowboy’s bubbly personality reminding him of a dear old friend. He finally let his hands drop before laughing softly to himself, such a weird person, he thought before following him into the back rooms. 

“There, how does that feel?” Teddy adjusted the scope with a steady hand, pulling back to let Kiyotaka take aim again. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he knew it felt off. 

“I’m not sure… It still feels wrong.” 

Teddy’s fingers worked quickly and with a swift expertise. They had only been back there for ten minutes but he already had Kiyotaka on a mat with a sizable sniper rifle in his inexperienced hands taking aim at a target down the way. 

“Ya need to tilt your head less.” 

Teddy’s sudden shift in tone made Kiyotaka snap from his thoughts. His voice had become less peppy, slipping into a calmer caring tone. Like a mother gently guiding their child along 

“It’s putting strain on yer neck muscles. Ya gotta tilt it to your eye, not the opposite.” 

He felt Teddy push on the side of the rifle, guiding it gently to his face. 

After a few more adjustments and soft poking and prodding from Teddy on fixing his form and relaxing more, he began to feel comfortable with the gun in his hands. It was a strange thought, to be comfortable with something that could easily take a life. Kiyotaka shoved the thought aside, it would be something to delve in later. 

“There ya go, yer a regular James Hickok!” he patted Kiyotaka’s shoulder, lifting the sniper from the mat and bringing it over to his workbench. Kiyotaka stood up, not recognizing the reference, but shrugging it off. 

“Eh, sorry, old western reference.” He mumbled, setting the gun down on a soft towel. 

Kiyotaka stood up, wandering over to the man’s side and watching him work. Teddy slowly buffed out the surface with a damp rag, washing away any fingerprints left on it’s polished surface. He seemed to forget about Kiyotaka’s existence, becoming absorbed into his work. Before he turned to grab something on his left side, suddenly yelping and stumbling back. 

‘Jesus Christ, forgot you were here.” He clutched at the ascot tie that hung loosely around his neck, placing a hand on his knee as he bent over. Kiyotaka couldn’t tell if he was laughing or gasping for air, the man wheezing a few feet away from him. 

“Ah- I’m sorry, i didn't mean to startle you.” Hearing Teddy cry out had made him jump back as well, making his nerves stand on end. 

“Naw, t’s my fault pal, got a blind eye, dontcha know.” He gestured to his dulled eye, chuckling softly. 

“I see, how did that happen, if you don't mind my asking?” 

Kiyotaka followed Teddy as he packed up the rifle, putting in extra lenses, cleaners, etc. 

‘A goose.” He simply responded, closing the case with a loud click. 

He turned to Kiyotaka, laughing hard at his expression. 

“Yeah, that’s usually the expression i get. I was messin’ with it and it got fed up with me. Took people ten minutes to get it off a’ me” he chuckled again, handing the case off to Kiyotaka. 

“Well, if ya need anything else, ya know where my lil ole shop is. Stop by anytime, pal!’ 

Teddy waved off Kiyotaka, like he was watching an old friend go, not waving off an assassin to go murder a higher class individual who had dealt in too much under-the-table deals. 

After the first big solo mission, Kiyotaka slowly worked his way higher and higher, receiving more Top Class missions and having more responsibility placed on him. But as time went on, his nerves steeled, his hands shook less when he took aim, and his mind had begun to numb at gruesome sights and anxiety inducing situations. Sights of murders and crime scenes no longer bothered him, and watching a life drain from someone’s eyes held no meaning to him anymore. All joyous thoughts he had vacated his mind long ago. He had finally reached a point where the council trusted and liked him enough for their plan for him to finally come to fruition. Kenryoku had welcomed him with open arms to work beside him. He had become one of the lead assassin groups in the council, codenamed themselves ‘Kakusu Yami’. Basically become the Prime Minister’s lead dog. 

The only problem being he had to deal with the new recruits. Being the head of the most esteemed group of the council, they led all the new recruits to be taught by the best. 

This meant that most of Kiyotaka’s jobs were no longer solo missions filled with suspense and deception, but rather carting around a useless weight and explaining why no,  _ Haru _ , you can't just shoot them. And yes,  _ Chiaki _ , you do need to clean up the body when you slit their throat and let their blood splatter all over the goddamn wall! No, I won't clean it up for you! 

The most recent mission was with a young girl with steady hands, her expression trying to show strength, but eventually dissolved into fear and worry as Kiyotaka motioned for her to remain silent. The three of them, himself, Kirigiri; Who was brought in due to Kiyotaka’s partner being incapacitated recently, and the young girl perched on the edge of the fire escape balcony of the building across the street. Their target stumbled out of the gentleman’s bar across the street, his tux slung open and some vile liquid was splattered down the front. No doubt a disgusted woman splashing her drink at him as he made a gross comment. 

“There he is, our target. Now watch carefully, the street is full of watchful eyes. If we conduct the action now, there is an absolute chance we’ll get caught. Wait for the most opportune time before…” He took aim with the silenced rifle he held stiffly in his hand, raising it to eye level. He watched the man through the sight, waiting for him to lean on the side of the building they were on, squeezing the trigger softly before his sight went dark. He almost pulled the trigger but jerked it back in time, the stray bullet shooting into the sky. He jerked back, looking to see the girl standing in his way, a determined look on her face. 

“Wait!” She yelled, “You can't just kill him! He… surely he has worth!” 

Kiyotaka bristeled, shoving her out of the way and leaning over the railing, watching their target jolt at the sound and scramble off deeper into the maze of concrete of the city. 

Kiyotaka whirled back to the girl, his brows furrowing as he glared her down, stomping over angrily to where she cowered. So much for a quick and silent kill. 

“Get in my way again, and I’ll kill you.” 

He growled, grabbing her face in his gloved hand. 

The threat wasn't empty. All three of them knew they were as disposable as fighting dogs. Their life held little to no value other than to protect those they were bound to and do every task assigned with expert precision. If and when they died, there would be no funeral. There would be no grieving. Their position would be filled within the hour. 

He released the young girl’s face, watching her stumble back a bit. New recruits could be such a pain. He turned to Kirigiri, a knowing look already in her eyes. 

“You know what to do?” He questioned, nodding his head quickly in the direction their current target had stumbled off to. She nodded back, pulling her pistol from it’s holster on her hip and slinking off the balcony fire escape. 

The young girl shivered silently where she stood, fiddling with her gloves. Kiyotaka sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, 

“Do you understand what you just cost us? That is precious time you’ve just wasted with your moral talk.” 

“I understand but-” 

“There is nothing else.” he interrupted, “you understand. Leave it at that.” 

“But he has a family! And a job and people who depend on him!” 

“That is NOT your business.” Kiyotaka growled, moving toward her again. She backed away, fear shining in her eyes.

“Your job is to do what I say. You kill who I tell you. I don't care if that guy knew the cure to cancer. Your job isn't to decide who gets to live. You do as i say or the next murder case they find is going to be you. Understand?” He was so tired of newbies coming in and expecting to change the world or do some righteous acts. They always expected the same thing. A big flashy job with tons of praise and admiration. feeling self-righteousness as they took down bad guys and crime bosses. 

The truth was, there were no crime bosses, no mafia gangs with intelligences and complex trading systems. No big flashy entrances or explosions. Most of the time, it was taking out some poor junkie who got themselves too far wrapped up in something larger than them. At least the small cases were. Kiyotaka was only there to act as a guiding harsh hand, since new recruits were known to mess up immensely and almost get themselves caught. 

She nodded, looking like she was going to say something but Kirigiri’s return made her swallow her words. Kiyotaka let his eyes lock with her’s one more time, ending their friendly chat with one sentence, 

“There is no place for morals here.”

  
  


(BTW i did some artwork of Coulson Theodore Van Wohlheter! Its also on my deviantart :https://www.deviantart.com/drcrowcrestwork

Ok thank you for reading let me know what part you liked the most! 

Also if you guys want some murder stories of a young Assassin Kiyotaka, i got some ideas ;) just lmk and i may write some of them!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if some parts of this chapter seem rushed and sloppy i honestly stopped caring about some of it but i had parts i wanted to write and loved how they turned out so i had to write parts inbetween... :/  
> Surprise Kirigiri, and Surprise OC introduction! Teddy is my Danganronpa OC and hes the Ultimate Gunsmith! I love his stupid face and just had to add him in here. He may pop up in some later chapters but hes a background character. Also idk if Kenryoku counts as an OC but i totally hate his guts...


	7. Mandatory Club Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally meeting Mondo! Kiyotaka hates him, what do you expect?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by the songs, Love is a bitch, and I feel like i'm drowning both by Two Feet.  
> finally Mondo is in the picture! I know i just posted a chapter like yesterday but i had a good bit of this written already. I have no parts of the next chapter done after this one so it may be a bit until thats posted. Sorry! :X

  
  
  


Kiyotaka returned to the prime minister’s office the next morning, his displeasure at the events partaking in last night clearly showing on his face. He tugged at the bottom of his black uniform, the silky material gliding through his fingers with ease. Ever since he was promoted to Kenryoku’s lead dog, his uniform changed to a stark black silk suit, adorned with golden trim and buttons all stylishly matching his black visor cap. Kenryoku greeted him with the same warm smile he always did, pleased to see his most trusted guard dog return without a scratch. He chuckled at Kiyotaka’s expression, 

“I take it the training went off without a hitch?”

His words made Kiyotaka’s lip curl in a disgusted grimace, his brow twitching at the uncomfortable memory, 

“Trainees are always the same. Believing in the grandeur displayed in shows.” 

He folded his hands loosely behind his back as he returned to his position at Kenryoku’s right hand, eyeing down the papers that scattered his desk. 

“That’s always entertaining to hear. What did they do this time?” 

The Prime minister tapped the thin stack of papers he held lightly against the desk, giving Kiyotaka a bemused smile as he scanned the first paper, reading each word carefully.

Kiyotaka scoffed, recalling the events in grave detail. 

“She stood in my way and refused to move when she learned who the target was. Kirigiri had to finish the job while I took care of the recruit. Complained how the target had a family and a life. As if that mattered.” 

“All life is precious.” Kenryoku retorted with a flourish as he handed Kiyotaka the document he had been reading, chuckling to himself before continuing, 

“Unless that life is a useless nobody. You put her in her place?” Kenryoku glanced briefly behind him, his expression was one Kiyotaka had seen hundreds of times. It was hard to describe, a mix of intrigue and dark mischievousness. 

“Of course, sir. I told her if she got in my way again I would kill her. Simple as that.”

Kenryoku nodded, pleased with Kiyotaka’s answer. 

“Those recruits need to learn quickly, I’m glad they have such a skilled man to teach them.” 

The comment was so offhanded Kiyotaka almost didn’t comprehend what his superior had said. 

“A-ah. Thank you, sir.” Kiyotaka felt a blush creep across his cheeks. His detest for Kenryoku had been diminishing daily. In his first few months of working closely with Kenryoku, he had seen the man as an arrogant and selfish beast, watching him sign away the lives of people he saw beneath him for his own monetary benefit. He had pondered the idea of slipping poison into his tea, or possibly stabbing him in the back at the most opportune time, but of course Kiyotaka knew that killing the figurehead would do little to destroy the hydra. If he murdered Kenryoku, he would only benefit in ending his and Kenryoku's life quicker. The large corporation that controlled every happening in his country would still be as strong as ever. 

But Kenryoku’s confidence and confiding nature in Kiyotaka was almost rewarding in it’s own way. The man was in no shortage of compliments to Kiyotaka. It almost felt like Kenryoku admired him at times. 

Kenryoku waved his hand lightly at his comment, 

“Anyways, there was something I wanted to discuss with you, Ishimaru.” He curled one finger over his shoulder, not looking away from the document in his hand. Kiyotaka leaned in close, his face positioned next to Kenryoku, “Does the name Mondo Owada mean anything to you?” 

He tapped the front of the vanilla folder in his hand, the front was comically stamped with a large “TOP SECRET” and a white wax seal. He handed the file to Kiyotaka, 

“Of course, sir. Mondo Owada, the leader of the Crazy Diamonds. He has caused you quite the amount of trouble, if i remember correctly. Protests, break-ins, he has even sent you a few personal threats, has he not?” 

It was Kenryoku’s turn to grimace. 

The publicity of Owada’s stunts, and the council’s power to do anything about it was a tender topic. It had seemed like Owada and his gang were running circles around police and private investigators alike. The Council had tried everything to track down and exterminate Owada, but everything they had thrown at him failed. Just last week he had smothered one of their good agents with a pillow in the middle of the night. She was trying to seduce and get him drunk, and from what Kiyotaka had heard of the story she was doing a good job at it. But even when he was inebriated, Owada could see through the farce and easily knocked the gun from her hand and suffocated her with the hotel pillow. 

“Yes. It would seem our efforts were all in vain. His strength is unmatched, and while he doesn't look it, the bastard is smart as an alley rat. That's why the council has unanimously decided the best option is to send out our best in the field. That would be you. We have invited him to stay at one of the Council’s condominiums and have planned several festivities for this… era of peace… we are in with his gang.” He said the words with air quotations, laughing dryly before continuing, “We’re not sure if he’ll come or not, but either way, you would be assigned to watch over him. Make sure he doesn’t cause too much trouble. Get close enough to be able to get rid of our little problem” 

Kenryoku lifted himself out of his chair with an estranged huff, his knees cracking. He turned to Kiyotaka, holding out his hand, “Ishimaru, how do you feel about taking on our toughest assignment?” 

Kiyotaka pondered for a moment. To be back in the field again, on a real assignment. The adrenaline rushes, feeling the blood course through his veins. The deceit, the despair, the thrill of the chase. A wiry smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. ‘Yes’ he thought to himself, this was going to be fun. 

“Of course sir, it would be my honor to serve you.” He took Kenryoku’s hand, watching the man’s gaze shadow with a dark glee. 

“I have no doubt you will make me proud, Ishimaru. Your country thanks you.” 

.

.

.

.

Not only did Mondo come, he came alone. The bastard was so confident in his abilities he blew off his subordinates who insisted at least one of them attend as well. 

When the council had told him he would be guarding the leader of the most revered and feared biker gang in all of the country, that had taken many lives, led violent and destructive riots and protests around the country, routinely destroyed private property, struck fear in the hearts of all who heard their name, he was expecting a dirty stained and horrid looking man. What he didn’t expect to see was a tall devilishly handsome man with cheekbones looking like they were cut from stone and muscles that rippled under his tight suit jacket, dyed strawberry blond coif tied back into a smooth ponytail contrasted by the striking black undercut that tapered off around the back of his neck, standing awkwardly by the punch table looking like he had never had a stable conversation in his life. 

The councilmember he had been walking with clapped him on the back, giving him a warming and not-at-all threatening smile as he chuckled to himself, 

“Here, Ishimaru, I’ll go and introduce you.” 

Kiyotaka had no option but to be led by the almost-fat business major towards his next target. 

“Mondo Owada!”

The spectacularly dressed man jumped slightly at his call, a nervous smile flashing across his face as he spotted the two men approaching. 

“C-councilman Chalmers, it's good to see you again.” 

His voice was low, as expected. It had a twang of some accent Kiyotaka couldn’t place, but it tugged at his y’s. He seemed to be trying to hide it, drawling out a tone that was unnatural to his tongue. 

“Charmed, very charmed! Say, Owada, the council has decided for your safety and comfort while you’re staying here the best plan was to hire you a bodyguard!” 

The councilman beamed, his teeth all too white, as he clapped Kiyotaka on the back again.

“Ah, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, at your service, sir!” 

Kiyotaka stuttered out, his face flushing as he bowed deeply to the older man. 

He hadn’t expected to be thrust into this situation, but he seemed it was only fair to make introductions early. He WAS supposed to get close enough to Owada to assassinate him. 

“Fantastic!” The councilman crowed, “Swell indeed. The best of the best, I can assure you. Well, i'll let you two boys get to know each other, seeing as you'll be spending the next week with each other.” 

With those final words, like nails in coffins, he strutted off to bother someone else. 

Kiyotaka stood up straight, inspecting Mondo’s face as his fake cheerful grin fell into a sneer that followed the man as he sauntered away. When his eyes slid over to Kiyotaka again, catching his own fiery red eyes full of intensity, he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. 

His demeanor, while nervous, was generally pleasant. This may not be as bad as he had expected, and perhaps he could connect with the country’s most feared gang leader.

“Ya don’t gotta do all that formal shit.” He muttered, his gaze darting back to Kiyotaka for a second before looking away again. And with that, the display of sophistication was gone. 

He carded his hand that wasn't holding the delicate glass of champagne through his hair, before letting it slide down his neck to tug at the starched collar. 

“Man… That guy’s a total ass, doncha think?” He finally turned to address Kiyotaka, merely receiving a slight frown at his words, 

‘I am not at liberty to talk in such a manner about my superiors, sir.” 

He moved to stand beside Mondo, to look less awkward, sipping slowly on the dark red wine that sloshed in his glass.

Mondo sighed heavily next to him, slouching a bit,

“Do you really talk like that all the time? Damn, that's such a drag.” 

The taller man's words were like that of a whining child. 

Ok. maybe it will be just as bad as he had thought. 

“Welp, this party’s such a bummer, i'm gettin’ bored. C'mon pal, les go pick up some chicks!”

For the third time that night, Kiyotaka’s back had been smacked with an open palm, knocking the nail that was driving a deep seated headache deeper and deeper. He felt the muscle around his eyebrow spasm as he watched Mondo polish off his glass and set it on the punch table before heading toward the exit. 

“W-wait! Where are you going?”

He called after the blonde haired man, rushing to catch up with his lengthy strides.

“Uh, Clubs? Bars? Anywhere that's far away from here and an actual good time. You’re my chauffeur right?”

He flashed kiyotaka with a charming smile, a pompous air quickly snuffing out the dry societal persona he had displayed no more than two minutes ago. His words made Kiyotaka freeze, gritting his teeth.

“I- no, i'm not going! Clubs? That's so.. Obscene!” 

Mondo turned to the raven haired man, that same grin still plastered to his face. He stepped closer to Kiyotaka, towering over him. Kiyotaka wondered if he already knew the trap that was being laid. He wondered if the man questioned whether he could protect him. Kiyotaka mentally cursed himself, cursed the gang leader in front of him. This was going to be a pain. 

“Your funeral bud, I'll walk there.” He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low almost growl,

“And if I get hurt or die? That's on your head, man.”

He lifted a hand to kiyotaka’s face, flicking him gently on the nose.

Kiyotaka flinched, screwing his nose up at the sensation. 

After a second, his eyes finally quit wandering and settled on Mondo’s face, which was incredibly close to his own. 

‘Kh.. fine.. I'll pull the car around.” 

.  
.  
.

  
  
  


Neon lights shone off the wet pavement, dazzling across the cars that crept down the strip, and striking their brilliant colors across the skimpy outfits of every patron walking down the redlight district. Kiyotaka averted his eyes from the sight, scanning the names and scandalous neon signs of each building. Mondo was sitting in the passenger seat, no matter how much Kiyotaka had suggested he sit in the back, i.e more room, privacy, a place where he wouldn’t be subjected to seeing Mondo’s face… Mondo had adamantly refused, falling into the cramped front cabin with a deep sigh. He had hastily tugged off suit jacket and tie, flinging them into the back, leaving him in only the white undershirt that was detestably tight. And to top it off, he even unbuttoned the first two buttons! Kiyotaka felt the muscles in his jaw clench harder as Mondo let out a soft sigh, flipping up the white shirt collar and making the fit even looser around his shoulders. He carded his fingers roughly through his hair and removed the ponytail holder. He was in the current process of fluffing up the mass that sat stiffly on top of his head until it fell softly to frame his face on one side with the curly golden locks. 

Kiyotaka sat grumpily behind the wheel. Everywhere he dared to look had either a half naked person in sparkly revealing outfits or suggestive material, so he had settled with staring at the brakelights of the car in front of him. His knuckles gripped the leather wheel of the black limousine Kenryoku insisted he use, so hard that if he wasn't wearing gloves they would be white. 

‘So uhh…” Mondo slumped in his seat, kicking one leg onto the limo’s dashboard, 

“Been ‘round here long?” 

Kiyotaka dared to glance over at Mondo, regretting it immediately as Mondo was currently laying with his entire chest practically visible (its not really), one arm resting on the lip of the window, his eyes lazily wandering over Kiyotaka’s suit as he curled a single lock of hair around his index finger. 

Is he really trying to small talk me? Looking like that? 

“Yes,” he replied testily, “two and a half years. If you are looking for suggestions, i do not frequent the redlight district, so I won’t be of much help, sir.” 

He kept his gaze looking forward, trying to force down his disdain and keep kis expression level. But that was incredibly hard when he felt Mondo’s gaze burying into his temple. 

“I told ya, stop with all that formal shit. Jus’ call me Mondo.” 

“I am here to protect you, not be your friend, Mr. Owada.”

Kiyotaka sneered, quickly realizing his mistake. He was supposed to become friends with Owada. Or at least somewhat close. But dear everything holy, this was going to be impossible at the rate he was going. 

Mondo groaned a loud, “JEEEESUSS” wincing and covering his eyes with his large hand, dragging it down his face, 

“That's so much worse! Mr. Owada? God dude you’re makin’ me sound like a fuckin’ prude!” 

His whining grated long stabs of pain into Kiyotaka’s ever worsening migraine. 

“Well, since you are so persistent-”

“Wait- STOP!” 

Mondo’s sudden outburst and hand smacking Kiyotaka in the chest made him slam on the breaks. While admittedly they were only going about five miles, it was enough to make them both jerk forward, and the car behind let out an enraged honk. 

“That's the place! Right there!” Mondo’s face had lightened up with excitement, pointing toward one of the clubs. Kiyotaka followed the path of his gesture, half surprised and half not to see him pointing toward the sleaziest looking club on the strip. Of course the country’s most infamous criminal couldn't have picked an at least esteemed club worth Kiyotaka’s time. 

“That's the one you want to spend time in? Are.. are you sure there isn't another one that piques your interest?”

“Nah, look! It’s got no entry fee!”

“If money is an issue you dont-” 

He barely got a word out before Mondo was hopping out of the car, not bothering to look as he crossed to ensure he wouldn’t get hit. 

Kiyotaka’s brow spasmed, groaning loudly before hurriedly pulling close to the sketchy building in a place that wasn't really a parking spot and rushing to catch up to Mondo. 

The big muscled bouncer chatted aimlessly with Mondo, the two grinning like old friends. 

Mondo slipped easily past the large man, giving him a half wave and disappearing into the darkened passage. 

Kiyotaka heard technological music blaring and the sound of people yelling behind the buff man. As he approached him, the man seemed to try and make himself seem bigger, but Kiyotaka had taken down people more skilled than this meathead, so he held no merit against him. He held the keys in one hand and walked directly up to the man, reaching up to grab a handful of his black crew neck shirt and dragged him down to his height, a furious snarl drawing up his top lip, 

“If I see a single scratch on this car when I return, I will slowly cut up every person you have ever loved and force you to watch.” 

The man’s face paled, shakily taking the key from Kiyotaka’s hand. He stood there for a second like his mind was still processing what Kiyotaka had said.

Kiyotaka rolled his eyes, letting out a frustrated breath through his nose, 

“Move it.” He barked, spurring the larger man into action. 

  
  


When he entered the dark abyss of a hallway leading into the center of hell, he immediately was engulfed in cigarette smoke and the smell of alcohol. The heavy bass barely distinguishable as music made his heartbeat thump heavily and his ears ring. Bright flashing lights assaulted his sight, making him flinch and squint against the harsh contrast. 

Before him lay a cesspool of monsters. Their forms barely registered as human, more of a collective of flesh moving in a harmonious mating ritual. Pearls, fake diamonds and hot skin assaulted every direction he turned. 

His fight or flight response was kicking in hard,

and he wanted to run. 

He took a deep breath, regretting it as the sour secondhand smoke filled his lungs and made him cough. He scanned the room for any sight of the treacherous man that had brought him into his own personal torture chamber, catching sight of him lounging in a corner booth surrounded by sleazy looking men in business suits, each carting a hefty cigar in their lips. He had been in a few bars and clubs tracking down the scum he was tasked with eliminating, but this truly was the lowest of places. 

He felt gross just standing there. 

Mondo caught his eye, beckoning Kiyotaka over with an ecstatic wave of his hand and a sloppy smile. He had little trouble spotting Kiyotaka, no doubt, as he was sure he stood out like a clean spot on a grease covered car.

Kiyotaka’s mood worsened as he traversed the room of drunk drugged up people, moving to avoid the scantily clad women that winked at him from across the room and made obscene motions at him. When he approached mondo, the taller man stood up to greet him with open arms, much in the same way Kenryoku often did. Except Kiyotaka was taken by surprise as Mondo slung his arm around Kiyotaka’s shoulders, like an extremely heavy fur coat. 

“This here is my bodyguard. The ole fuckers at the top decided ta give me some company while i stay here!” He beamed down at Kiyotaka, pulling the smaller man into his side, almost in a choke-hold

“Seems like after failing miserably at killing me so much they decided to protect me now!” 

While his words dripped with a sickly sweet thankful tone, Kiyotaka shivered at the memory of what Mondo had done to the other members sent to kill him. An undertone of contempt slipped over Mondo’s tongue like a snake smelling out fresh blood. 

“Charmed.” Kiyotaka grimaced, pushing Mondo’s arm off him. 

“He sure is an eye pleaser, ey Mondo?” One of the men spoke, dark smoke pouring from his obscene lips as he laughed gruffly and elbowed Mondo as he sat back down at the booth. 

“I saw them ladies eyeing him up already as he walked by.” Another responded, cackling like they were sharing an inside joke. Some cruel and disgusting joke Kiyotaka didn’t want in on. 

“I’m sure they’d just eat you alive, son. Wish they looked at me like that without my wallet in my hand.” A third chimed in, addressing Kiyotaka head on, wincing at the old man’s tone. 

Mondo stayed surprisingly quiet during this exchange, knocking back the shot of whatever foul smelling brightly colored alcohol laid in his shotglass. An expression appeared on his face that Kiyotaka couldn’t decipher. Maybe, embarrassment? Or possibly because of the alcohol. 

Mondo swayed slightly in his seat, his eyelids drooping heavily as he polished off the 3rd shot he had in the past ten minutes. The men had chatted nonchalantly, throwing in the occasional wolf whistle and obligatory shoving of their greasy money into the waiter’s breasts as she continuously brought them out drinks. Mondo had offered multiple times to get him one, but while Kiyotaka would have loved nothing more than to be unconscious and not remember this all in the morning, he had a duty to keep to, and also liked his pride at the level it was. So he refused. 

“Welp.” Mondo said matter of factly, standing up with a sudden eagerness in his eyes, 

“I think i’m gonna go dance. Got a nice selection of beats, ey fellas?” He received a mutter of laughter in return, seemingly pleased with the reaction before waltzing out of the booth. He paused by Kiyotaka, staring the man up and down as if it was the first time he had seen him.

“I take it you don’t dance, little man?” 

Mondo towered over Kiyotaka, even in his inebriated state he still carried an air of authority and power around him. He leaned in closer to Kiyotaka, his breath smelling of heavy alcohol as he spoke. 

‘Not here. Not the way you would. I have standards, Mondo.” He crossed his arms tighter around his chest, his name foriegn on his tongue. 

Mondo let out a coarse deep laugh, ducking his head to one side, his hair cascading over his eyes. 

“Course’ ya don’t. I wouldn’t expect someone like you ta loosen up.” 

_ ‘Loosen up.’  _

that phrase had been brought up in the context of Kiyotaka’s life over and over again. 

_**'Loosen up.'** _

As if. 

He could never let his guard down, never relax. Not in his position, not in his life. 

Before he had thought his words through, he met Mondo’s gaze with the same bitter resolve, 

“Sorry to break it to you, but not all of us can share the same carefree lifestyle as you. Some of us have responsibilities.” 

Mondo blinked in surprise, a satisfying look of shock spreading quickly across his flushed cheeks. his lips parting as if to reply, before closing and morphing into a tight scowl. 

His eyes wandered Kiyotaka’s face, as if looking for some sort of answer, a comeback. But all he got was the same hard stare and tight lipped frown. 

His expression darkened around his lavender eyes, his top lip twitching for a moment before he finally turned away.

“Tch.. fine.” 

Kiyotaka was not thrilled about the situation he was thrown into, but he was even less thrilled now, having to stand there leaning against the grimy wall and watch Mondo fraternize with the lustfilled audience. 

His body swayed along with the woman he had been dragged along by, his large hands travelling up and down her skin, barely covered in strings and pasties. Her hands dug into his mangled coif as she ground her backside into Mondo along with the slowed down bass of whatever trashy song was being blasted from the crackling speaker system. Kiyotaka hated watching their tirade, seeing her coerce him into another drink, watching his movements become sloppy. 

Kiyotaka specifically hated when Mondo would raise his gaze to stare at him for a second before tearing his eyes away. 

Kiyotaka couldn’t tell if it was a farce to make him feel jealousy, as if he was jealous of Mondo being knee deep in that crowd melding together into a mob of cigarettes, alcohol and illegal drugs.

Kiyotaka hadn’t realized just how far along the night had gotten until he checked his phone for a second and noticed a good two or three hours had passed since Mondo had dragged him from the cocktail party the Council had thrown in preparation of his arrival. When he glanced back up, he saw Mondo slip, stumbling back for a second onto another couple. 

“Ok.” Kiyotaka muttered to himself, “enough is enough.” 

He pushed himself off the wall, turning to the group of men who were still sitting there, smoking the same type of cigar, except now it seemed a woman was being passed around between them. 

“It was a pleasure knowing you all, but i hope to never see any of you again.” 

He spoke with curt honesty as he grabbed the few belongings Mondo had brought along with him and braced himself to endure the crowd. 

As he approached, he could see the relief on the young lady’s face as Mondo leaned heavily against her. Kiyotaka slipped an arm around Mondo, slowly shifting his weight until he was off of the young girl. She thanked him quickly before running off into the sea of people. Kiyotaka grunted underneath Mondo’s weight, feeling his hair tickle the side of his face as he made the painfully slow journey to the car. 

Once he had Mondo properly situated in the car, he finally fell into the driver’s seat, his legs aching. 

Kiyotaka turned to ensure Mondo hadn’t keeled over and died. The man was indeed pale in the face, sweating profusely, but it seemed more like overwork and exhaustion along with high alcohol consumption rather than a cause for alarm. 

Kiyotaka smiled to himself, calling out behind him as he started the engine, 

‘You better not throw up in this car. It’s expensive you know.” 

All he received was a throaty groan in return. 

  
  


Kiyotaka threw Mondo down onto the pristinely made bed, watching with a vague sadness as it wrinkled around his form. He let out a sigh of relief, staring down at the already passed out Mondo. 

“What am I going to do with you, mondo.” 

Kiyotaka muttered to himself, resting his cheek against the open palm of his hand. 

“It would be so easy to just…” he moved toward Mondo, reaching out a hand toward his neck. He felt the soft stubble of his 5 o’ clock shadow dappling his jawline, brushing a hand ever so gently across the larger man’s jugular. 

“So easy…” 

Mondo’s eyelashes fluttered at the touch, his gaze focusing onto Kiyotaka. Of course the bastard wasn’t out cold. 

“What r’ ya doing?” He mumbled, his throat sounding dry and scratchy, as if speaking physically pained him. 

Kiyotaka’s hand paused in its pursuit to choke the life out of Mondo, his thumb pressing against the taller man’s jaw. He ran through the scenario in his head, pushing his hand forward and squeezing his jugular, feeling Mondo’s pulse quicken against his hold, climbing onto the bed to incapacitate him, he could almost feel the sting of Mondo’s nails digging into his arms in a frantic attempt to loosen his grip. The fear in his eyes, his lips opening in a breathless gasp for air.

It could work. 

  
  


But… 

Kiyotaka highly doubted he could keep Mondo pinned long enough. Even if his reflexes were slowed, he still had every ounce of strength Kiyotaka didn’t. 

“I’m checking your pulse of course. You looked dead.” 

It was a weak excuse, but with his hand so close to Mondo’s pulse point already it was the only excuse he could come up with in the moment. 

Kiyotaka felt the man’s throat contract beneath his palm as he chuckled roughly before drawing in a deep breath to speak again. 

“Gonna take a lot more than a night of drinkin’ to kill me.” 

‘Sadly’ Kiyotaka thought, drawing his hand away from Mondo’s throat with a sigh. 

“You are correct. It seems that you will live another day, Mondo Owada.” 

With a small smile, Kiyotaka left the bedroom, feeling heaviness settling behind his eyes and dragging his feet down. He hadn’t realized just how exhausted he really was. 

He was out like a light before his head even hit the pillow. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lov my stupid boy, let me know if you like how i write Mondo! I like to think of him as a cocky SOB but he gets nervous around uptight rich people. As always thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated and i Love reading what you guys think so far! TYSM for waiting so long for the actual story part lmao! :)))) <3


	8. A Path split in Two, I Chose the One Less Traveled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mondo explores the Condo, and Kiyotaka is still wary of him. Maybe one day they can get along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im sorry if this chapter seems rushed... it is. This is honestly i think the worst chapter ive written. I just want to move on to the rest of the story, but parts of it needed to happen, even if i didnt want to write them. :/

Mondo was awoken from a deep and unfulfilling slumber by the light from the large bay window that sat alone on the far wall. The light fluttered over his face, broken up and dimmed by its’ soft curtains. 

He groaned softly as he opened his lavender hued eyes. He slapped a hand over his eyes, trying to quell the splitting headache that thumped across his forehead. He flung the heavy ladened blanket off of him, his clothes from last night still clung to his sweaty form. He clenched his jaw and held his head in his hands as he slowly sat up, waiting for the sharp pain to ebb off into a dull throb before proceeding to get up. 

As he reached for his suitcase he remembered putting at the end of his bed to replace his current ruined outfit, he was relatively shocked to find it empty. He checked around the bed, trying to rack his groggy brain for any explanation, until he wrenched open one of the drawers on the nightstand to find his boxers folded neat and tidy… and in color coordination?

After a slow and methodical search of the entire room earned him a view of all his clothes hung, folded, and pressed to near perfection.   
He shrugged his shoulders.   
If last night was any indication, his clothes being put away neat and tidy was the least of his worries right now. The light falling peacefully through the window spurred his slowed mind to see what time it even was. He grabbed his phone he hadn't remembered setting on the nightstand, but it was plugged in.   
12:43   
it read.

Fantastic. 

Mondo peeled his previous night’s wear off, sticking out his tongue and wrinkling his nose at the scent. He really should take a shower…   
But the needed energy to stand for an extended period of time and clean himself was zapped out of him by the sudden wave of nausea that punched him in the stomach. He would worry about that later.   
Right now he needed food. 

He threw on a simple white tee and a pair of joggers, his grumbling stomach and parched throat forcing him to leave his quiet and serene room to seek out sustenance. 

He slowly opened the door, peering into the equally lit hallway and spotting a door cracked open across from his. He wouldn’t bother exploring since his stomach was gnawing away at his insides, but signs of life inside piqued his curiosity over his organs. He quickly checked no one was around and gently pushed open the cracked door, hesitantly peering around every corner. Once he was convinced the room was completely clear of any sentient life, he entered as softly as he could. He saw a suit laid out on the bed, a pair of generously polished dress shoes on the floor beside it. Much like his room, the contents of this one had been laid out in extreme precision. Each shirt was neatly hung and pressed, and the drawer of socks were all the same boring pair.   
As he approached the armoire that sat inconspicuously against the wall, a sudden shock of worry crept up his spine. He had no idea why this closed wooden structure caused him so much dread, but the unopened doors taunted every moment he paused, his hand forever outstretched toward it’s knob.  
Anything could be in there.  
He thought, weapons, a dead body, two dead bodies!   
Clothes, shoes, jackets,

a human skin suit still dripping blood-

Mondo shook the thought from his head.   
It's just a closet.   
It's probably just got clothes.  
But still, he hesitated.   
.  
.  
.  
.  
A sudden and loud clattering could be heard emanating from down the hall. The sounds of life. Mondo’s hand drew away from the Pandora schrodinger’s box as his attention snapped back to the doorway. A sudden sense of embarrassment at snooping through whoever’s stuff he had seen washed over him and made him leave.   
Little did he know… 

That one moment of hesitation would forever change the course of his story. For in that armoire contained Kiyotaka’s every method of ridding the world of Mondo Owada.

Mondo followed the noises down the hall, the narrow walkway opening into a high ceilinged room, a heavenly scent permeating the air. An unknown figure stood at the stove, poking at the sizzling griddle of bacon and flipping a perfectly browned pancake onto the tall pile that had been accumulating. The man was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a shirt that was branded with a school name Mondo had never heard of across the back tucked into them. A simple apron was tied around his midsection and his raven black hair was tousled in an early morning wake-up style. He was humming softly to himself. 

Mondo approached with caution, unable to resist the mouthwatering scents as his mouth had indeed begun to salivate. Mondo’s steps, no matter how soft he tried to make them, reminded him just how heavy his feet were, alerting the man. He turned around, piercing red eyes rimmed with a pair of thin glasses frames widened in a moment of panic, before relaxing as they caught sight of Mondo. Kiyotaka smiled rather warmly in the direction of the guy who had dragged him off to his worst possible hellscape the other night, 

“Sleeping Beauty awakes from his slumber. I was wondering when you would get up.”   
His tone held a hint of a teasing nature as he turned back to the job at hand, lifting the sizzling bacon from the fires and onto a paper towel-lined plate. Mondo wandered nearer, flopping down onto one of the fancy spinning bar stools that sat behind the bar where Kiyotaka was working.   
Kiyotaka moved to the others side of the counter, picking up a handful of pills and a glass of water he had laying there,   
“Here, take this. It will help with your hangover. “

Mondo stared at the pills, inspecting them carefully,   
“I don't have a hangover.” he mutters. 

‘Sure.’ 

Kiyotaka didn't glance back over at mondo, but the taller man could see the smirk pulling at his lips.   
He grumbled something unintelligible and took one of the pills he identified as aspirin, but did not touch the other.   
Kiyotaka took notice, moving the plates of steaming pancakes and bacon over to the counter,   
“It's Emetrol. It helps with nausea. You know, for the hangover you don't have.”   
Mondo mumbled some half assed insults before polishing off the glass of water. 

“D’you got any scotch” 

Kiyotaka’s mildly happy ladened expression dropped into a sour and strict frown at Mondo’s question. He brandished the spatula he was holding like a teaching instrument,

“Drinking so early will result in rapid aging, health risks such as liver failure, diabetes and-”

Mondo, going through one of the worst hangovers he had experienced, cut in,  
“Just answer the question you prestigious prick.” 

“...yes.” 

“Good, cuz i'm Jonesing. Mind gettin’ me a glass? Just straight’s fine.”

Kiyotaka begrudgingly handed the biker the glass, the frown imminent on his face, wrinkling up his nose as he narrowed his eyes at Mondo.   
How has this man survived this far.  
He sighed before turning back to his cooking,   
“I made pancakes and bacon, along with a fresh pot of coffee. I'm not going to force you to eat or anything but I suggest you do.” 

“No, no… it.. It smells real good. Thanks.” He mumbled his words, especially the last word before he tucked into the meal with a certain ferocity Kiyotaka hadn't seen before.  
Sure, he had seen greedy business men shove their faces with decadent bakes and expensive meals, with little care in the world about how and where their food came from, but he had never seen a look of intense bliss on a man’s face as he shoved whole pancakes into his mouth at once, before swallowing only after a few chews. A truly disgusting sound. 

Kiyotaka felt a soft flutter in his chest at the gang leader’s hasty appreciative word, almost letting a small smile slip onto his lips.  
.  
.  
.  
No.  
He had to remember his goal.  
If he could win over Mondo this easily with a well-timed meal, his job would be complete in no time.  
It was the first of the last.  
The first day of the two weeks he would be spending attached at the handcuffs with the most Feared and Revered man in the country. He couldn’t let his guard down. He couldn’t be fooled so easily. 

“Y’know ya don't gotta jus’ sit there and watch me. You can eat too… if ya want.”

‘Hm. I appreciate the offer but I already ate.” Kiyotaka hummed in response.  
it was a lie.  
He hadn’t eaten anything since the previous night, but in all honesty he wasn’t hungry.   
He took another sip of coffee, letting it burn down his throat, the bitterness he had detested so in his youth now making his tongue tingle at the smoothness of each bold flavor. He had learned to savor the complexity of coffee.   
His lifestyle spoiling him of all the richest and delicately roasted coffee grounds he could get his hands on. Of course, the coffee grounds and method of brewing he could get his hands on this certain area were not up to the same standard, but it filled a fix he was a little embarrassed to admit he had. 

It seemed like he had blinked and the pile of pancakes were almost gone. 

“When you are finished with your meal, feel free to explore the condominium. The Council has provided you with the most upscale temporary housing in the whole city. A swimming pool on the deck, a gaming room, etcetera.” He finished the cup in his hands, setting it gingerly in the sink before turning back to Mondo with a sudden shift in his tone, “ But first… I would suggest you freshen up.” Kiyotaka wrinkled his nose as he inspected Mondo’s current look.   
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?!” Mondo cursed, a frown beginning to curl onto his lips, glaring up at the red eyed man.   
“It means you smell like a decomposing rat carcass. There should be a working shower with plenty of products at your convenience in your room.”   
Kiyotaka’s words were biting with a dry sarcasm, a thing he rarely dabbled in, but seemed appropriate in the moment. Mondo grumbled to himself, suddenly self conscious of his looks. He rubbed at his cheek, feeling the stubble scratch uncomfortably across his skin. Maybe a warm shower did sound good. Thinking of his room reminded him of the little mystery from earlier. Who else was staying in the condo with him? That wasn't in the arrangements. He hadn't seen anyone but Kiyotaka at his breakfast feast. 

“So.. who’s stayin in the room across from mine?” 

“I am.” 

Mondo sputtered, surprising Kiyotaka.   
“Y-you?!”   
“Yes, is there a problem with that?” 

“O’ course there’s a problem! Don’tcha got your own fuckin house to stay in?”

Kiyotaka was taken aback. He had expected some kind of backlash from Mondo about his stay, but the level of ferocity in the gang leader’s voice was a touch more than Kiyotaka was expecting. 

“Yes, but I very well can’t protect you at night from there.”

“I don't need protectin’! I can protect my own damn self jus’ fine.” 

he growled defensively, slamming his fist on the marble counter. 

“There is no need to raise your voice, and even less of a need to curse so much.” 

Kiyotaka stared down his nose at Mondo, a quiet ‘tsk’ leaving his mouth before he spoke again,

“What if there was a break-in, or an attempt on your life? It is my duty to protect you, whether you care for it or not.” 

The previous comfy atmosphere they had created earlier had all but disintegrated into the tense and scornfilled one similar to last night. Mondo’s face grew a shade darker of red, his fist clenched so tightly around the small glass Kiyotaka was sure it would shatter. But just as quickly as Mondo had become so enraged, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and sighed, relaxing his hand and lowering his head slightly. Kiyotaka watched Mondo’s expression shift from genuine anger to frustration, to resolution, and finally to peace. When he opened his eyes again, the burning rage was gone and all that remained was the cold resolution, 

“Whatever.” He muttered, quickly standing up and leaving the room like the wake of a hurricane wind. Kiyotaka was left reeling from the interaction, his eyes following Mondo leave.   
What had just happened?   
He had expected Mondo to throw the glass, start to shout or do anything other than what he had. The vivid self control he had just displayed intrigued Kiyotaka. For a man who was revered for his ability to lead the most fearsome gang, for the man who was so cocky in his abilities to survive anything that came his way he had attended an event from his biggest enemy on his own, and for a man who supposedly drowned himself in alcohol nightly… he seemed to have a decent hold on his emotional state. 

He was a curious case.   
.  
.  
.  
.  
Mondo wandered the classical style condominium, the white contrast of columns rising from the floor that curled softly toward domed ceilings and meticulously placed chandeliers, followed their paths to sloping framed large windows. It made him feel like he was in some kind of romantic movie, and he was sure if he strained hard enough he could hear the quiet crackling of a slow paced love song. All that was missing was of course…

His thoughts were interrupted by the quiet clacking of boots, turning to see Kiyotaka approaching him. His laxxed outfit from that morning was no more, instead he was adorned in a smoothened dark grey suit, darker lines moulding to the subtle curvature of his body, laying over his shoulders like a sheet of silk. His glasses were absent from his face, making it easier for Mondo to see his eyes. His attention was on the cuff of his sleeve, affixing the button tightly to his wrist.   
When his gaze rose and locked onto Mondo’s, the slight tension of the morning returned. It made Mondo bristle at the thought. He hated showing weaknesses, especially to those he wasn't close to.  
And he was meant to at least get along with Kiyotaka.   
Staring at Kiyotaka’s expensive outfit made Mondo feel extremely underdressed. His simple white crew neck tee and black jeans, with the addition of a studded belt (with chain included of course), an outfit he thought was a bit overkill for his natural style, looked like garbage compared to Kiyotaka’s suit. 

“Ah, good. I am glad to see you have cleaned up from last night. Feel free to explore the condominium, as i and the council want you to feel as relaxed as possible during your stay.”   
Kiyotaka tried hard to make his small smile seem as unforced as possible.   
He wasn't sure if he succeeded. 

He was back on his performative bullshit, mondo saw, a growing sour taste tainting his tongue. At least when he was berating him earlier it was genuine and not some planned lines. 

“Thanks.’ Mondo replied, shuffling his feet back and forth, as if he just wanted this conversation to end. 

“If you have any questions regarding anything, feel free to let me know and I will answer them to the best of my ability. I will be nearby.” 

Kiyotaka bowed lightly before turning on his heels and exiting the sitting room. 

“That’s not ominous or anything…”   
Mondo muttered to himself once Kiyotaka was out of his sight.   
“Nearby.” he scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

Mondo wandered the first floor of the condo, exploring the other guest rooms, each of which was untouched, but surprisingly dusted. His search led him to the large kitchen, of which he had only seen a sliver of this morning. The cabinets were filled with anything and everything one could need. Snacks, chips, drinks, glasses of every shape and size, name brand foods, everything.   
The fridge was in the same state, fresh vegetables and succulent fruits lined the shelves. Delicate cuts of meat and frozen mixes stocked the freezer. Mondo caught sight of the wine cooler hiding beneath the bar, also stocked with every kind of liquor you would ever need, but he decided a drink was the last thing he needed. Besides their rooms, the kitchen, and a cozy seating area by the front entrance, and an entrance it was, there was nothing else of interest on the first floor.   
The second floor contained the game room. It was a sudden change from the light colored and frilly designed structure, the room’s sudden contrast to dark reds and blacks.   
The game room had a pool table, a dart board, a table for cards along with a few packs, and a jukebox that sat in the corner, it’s neon lights shimmering softly off the polished surfaces of the darkened room.

The second floor also contained another small sitting room, more akin to a study. Large armchairs littered the space, their wooden frames covered in delicate swirls and petals.   
Low glass top tables lay in symmetrical rows running through the room, dividing it into sections.   
Decadent lighting lit up the walls, cascading down soft dissipated light onto the suede cushions, and shone off the glass of the tables, dancing triangles of rainbows along the equally decadent wallpaper. Large bookcases filled with old and worn covers Mondo had never heard of littered the empty spaces along the walls. It looked as if no one had used this space for years.   
The far wall was covered in what looked to be a massive curtain. Mondo moved toward it, pulling aside the heavy ladened sheet to discover a small balcony overlooking the massive clear watered pool near a crisp tennis court that doubled as a basketball court. Mondo pushed open the sliding glass door, exiting onto the balcony. A soft breeze, blowing from the oceanfront ruffled through his hair, bringing with it the scent of salt and the scent of fresh rain. He laid his elbows onto the white railing, letting his shoulders rise as he leaned against it.   
He breathed in deep, reveling in the sounds of the city surrounding the condo. It reminded him of the past. Of home.   
It reminded him of a time long before he had the responsibility of an organization to run. When he could just roam the streets with his friends, having fun spouts with the other groups and just hanging out, drinking illegally and racing each other on their bikes. Being with Daiya.   
Mondo winced at the thought of his brother.   
Even though it had been years since the incident, Mondo still couldn’t think fondly of the memories they shared, he still couldn’t face that reality.   
He reached into his jean pocket and struck a match, bringing a new cigarette to his lips in an attempt to puff away the pain of the past. 

He took a long draw of the cancer stick, letting the soothing feeling sink into his skin before letting out a deep exhale, watching the smoke dissipate in the gentle breeze. 

He stayed out on the balcony for a minute longer, seeping in the loud silence, drowning in the sounds of the city, ignoring his problems for just a moment longer before returning to his reality. 

He wandered around for a bit, staring around the rich architecture speckling the offwhite walls and bland looking furniture. Eventually he found himself standing aimlessly in the sitting room, bored out of his mind. He flopped down into one of the cushy tawny colored chairs, letting out a somewhat frustrated sigh. 

As if on cue, Kiyotaka walked into the room, his hands folded neatly behind his back.  
“Did you find your accommodations acceptable?” 

Mondo groaned inwardly at Kiyotaka’s still-robotic responses, sounding less and less like a human being with every word. 

“Yeah, ‘s alright i guess.” 

Truth be told he had never been in a place as uspscale as this, and he doubted he would ever again after this week ended. 

“Not really much ta do alone though.” 

He shrugged, feeling the boredom truly begin to set in. With no one else but Kiyotaka to interact with, he really was going to be forced to befriend the rule-following prick. 

‘Well… Im bored.  
.  
.  
.  
.

Entertain me.” 

Kiyotaka’s eyes widened in surprise. The implication of Mondo’s words hung heavy in the air, souring Kiyotaka’s already bad impression of Mondo even more.   
The phrase itself warranted no bad intention, Mondo simply wanting to fill the silence of the air with conversation. But to Kiyotaka, who already imagined Mondo as a power hungry and sexually driven individual, his words twisted in his mind.  
Disgust welling up in his throat and overflowing into his mouth, making him want to spit. 

“Excuse me?” 

Mondo pulled out a handgun he always kept on him, training the sight at Kiyotaka.

“I said, entertain me.” 

The gun was pointed at Kiyotaka, albeit lazily, Mondo was slumped in the chair, his head cocked to one side as he held it with a loose grip, his finger barely ghosting over it’s trigger.  
Kiyotaka had plenty of guns pointed at his head in his lifetime, to the point of staring down the barrel of an item that could kill him in an instant no longer brought fear. 

Instead, he strode forward with a confident pace, using one hand to grab the stock of the gun and direct it away from his face, his other hand striking at Mondo’s wrist, successfully turning the gun inward toward Mondo, causing him to let it go in fear of not getting his wrist broken. In a flash, Kiyotaka had disarmed Mondo, and now had the gun pointing at his chest. 

The fear shining in Mondo’s eyes at the sudden shift in power brought a sense of calm to Kiyotaka’s beating heart. The knowledge he could easily overpower even him…

Kiyotaka felt a laugh bubbling up in his throat, curling the corner of his lips into a lopsided smile as he relaxed his tense shoulders, letting the barrel of the gun waver in it’s aim. After a moment of pause, he removed the cartridge and tossed the empty shell back to mondo, watching it fall into his lap. 

He planted a hand on either arm of the chair, leaning close to Mondo as his voice dropped to a dangerously quiet level, his piercing stare never leaving Mondo’s eyes as he spoke, flicking from one side to the other,  
“I don’t think you quite understand who you are dealing with. Given the chance, Mondo Owada, I can and will end your life.” 

Mondo’s shock morphed quickly into a childlike excitement.  
“Holy… fucking... shit! 

DUDE! 

That was fuckin’ SICK!!!”   
Kiyotaka’s momentary pride shifted to confusion, stepping back as Mondo leaned forward in the chair, 

You gotta show me how you did that!” 

“I… uh… What?” 

Mondo shot up out of the chair, a wide and dorky smile spreading over his face, grabbing Kiyotaka by the shoulders,

“Teach me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, i know the ending part seems to come out of nowhere, but i needed it to happen for character growth and plot progression, so it is a little forced. Most of it is fine, but some parts just make me cringe. next chapter will be better I promise. 
> 
> Also! In some story progession stuff, the next chapters are going to be released in full day styles, since we've finished day 2 of Mondo's stay, the next chapter will be all of day 3 and so on so forth etc etc. 
> 
> I hope you stick around and lmk what you liked/didnt like i appreciate every single comment <3


	9. Day 3: Rooftop Extravaganza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair is invited to a rooftop party full of booze, stars, and alcohol. 
> 
> Will it be a fun night of partying? Or a nightmare of a time for all involved?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter on, each chapter will be one full complete day. Ending day 3 in this one, the next chapter will be day 4 etc etc.

Tap

Tap

Tap

.

.

.

Tap

Tap

Tap

Kiyotaka checked the clock again, seeing only a minute had passed since his last glance. 

6:12 AM. 

Tap

Tap

Tap

.

.

.

His foot tapped irritably against the floor of the Condo’s home gym. His brow twitching as he checked the time again, his gaze flicking from the clock to the open door, expecting any second to have a tall shadow grace the doorway with its’ presence. 

Mondo was supposed to be there twelve minutes ago. 

Mondo had basically begged Kiyotaka to teach him every trick he knew, a childlike impatience gleaming in his eyes. Seeing no reason not to, Kiyotaka had somewhat hesitantly agreed, on the terms that they met in the morning, to ensure the maximum time usage of their day. Mondo seemed reluctant at the proposition, but after a minute of consideration, agreed wholeheartedly, and voiced his pleasure and excitement in a very loud tone, a fire now shining in his eyes. 

...But here Kiyotaka was, raring and ready to go, and Mondo was nowhere to be seen. 

Another glance at the clock struck another pang of guilty anxiousness in his mind, causing his throat to dry out just a little bit more. 

Why was he feeling so betrayed at an associate, whom he was supposed to be  **murdering,** mind you, hadn’t shown up?

It wasn’t like Mondo was an old forgotten friend who didn’t bother responding, or a loved one suddenly abandoning a plan at the last moment. 

So why did it hurt so bad? 

Kiyotaka felt a tightness in his chest grow, making it harder to breathe. 

His eyes burned, like he wanted to cry. But he hadn’t cried since he graduated from Satsujin, since college. The more Kiyotaka thought about it, the more he realized, he hadn’t felt much of anything since college besides anger, contempt and regret. 

He absentmindedly smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles in his white tee, the relaxed and loose outfit along with a pair of black shorts perfect for practicing self defense, if his morning would ever get that far.

After waiting for one more minute, Kiyotaka let out a sigh, realizing if Mondo hadn’t shown up now, he probably never would. Had he really meant what he said then? Even with the excitement shining in his eyes as he demanded Kiyotaka train him, the thought still crossed his mind that it could have all been a ruse, a plan to undermine him. 

To make him look like the fool. 

Not like he didn’t get up this early, and if not earlier every morning. 

Kiyotaka sighed again, shaking the thought from his head as he went to leave, gathering the few things he had brought with him, and headed for the door. But as he went to leave, his racing thoughts, as well as his forward momentum were roughly stopped as he ran into something that felt as sturdy as a wall. He took a step back, blinking a few times to draw himself back into reality…. And found himself staring at a very muscly and very tan chest, barely covered by a deep cut tank top. His face flushed at this discovery. 

As if on command, Mondo appeared in the doorway, looking more disheveled than usual. Kiyotaka paused for a second in shock, slowly following the path of sun kissed skin until he was looking up into Mondo’s lavender eyes, noting the hazy sleep filled look they harboured. 

His surprise turned into chagrin, his brows knitting together in a parent-like look of disappointment. 

“You’re late.” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for a response from the bedraggled man. 

“Yeah yeah I know.” 

He mumbled a response, rubbing a hand roughly over his face, pushing past Kiyotaka and entering the gym. 

Kiyotaka’s mind train had to roar back a few stops to arrive at a proper headspace to continue with his lesson. But in the process, he couldn’t keep the hurt of those minutes he spent alone from seeping into his retort. 

“I thought you weren’t coming.” 

Kiyotaka had tried to keep the dejected tone out of his voice as he spoke, but he could tell by the way Mondo froze and turned back toward him he had failed. 

“Ya kiddin’ me? I haven’t been this excited for somethin’ in a while! S’ Just so damn early… I couldn’t get up” 

A lazy, but ecstatic smile spread over his face, as he reached a hand out to ruffle Kiyotaka’s slicked-back hair in a friendly manner. 

As if on instinct, Kiyotaka grabbed Mondo’s wrist, ducking to the side and pulling him forward, thrusting out a foot to collide with Mondo’s leg, causing him to fall hard onto his stomach, bending his arm behind his back and pinning him down. 

Mondo let out a gasp as he connected with the ground, the sudden flash of movement waking him up faster than anything ever had. 

“Rule number one of self defence… Never let your guard down.’

While he hadn’t really meant to knock Mondo off his feet so early into the lesson, it seemed like a fitting punishment for his tardiness. Kiyotaka had decided to make their first lesson about just that. 

“That is why I asked you to arrive early. You must seize the day for all it is worth. Take the day and all it has to offer with the best you have. Or else be prepared for whatever will seize you instead. That is your first lesson. If you are late again, I won’t be so lenient with you.” 

He let go of Mondo’s hand, watching the man practically spring up, a sudden shift from the tired and heavy ladened eyes, to a youthful glow, every ounce of sleep disappeared from his features. 

But Kiyotaka wasn’t even sure if  _ he  _ believed what he was saying.

If he was still in his college days, he would awake every morning with this mentality. Greeting the day with the same enthusiasm he used to. With the same passionate and innocent mindset. When he still had aspirations and goals, when he still had a future to look forward to accomplishing. Now, he only awoke early because he couldn’t stand his dreams. When he was awake, he could ignore all the thoughts that were threatening to cloud up his mind. He only stayed on a strict schedule to ensure those dark thoughts would keep to themselves. He no longer seized the day, but merely walked through it, like a militant zombie, doing every task that was asked of him, and not much else. Yet here he was, a change of schedule, and a change of pace. And here he was, teaching a mindset he didn’t even believe, to someone he wasn’t even supposed to like. And for what? Why did he accept Mondo’s proposal-

‘Hell yeah!” Mondo interrupted his thoughts, his tone raising with his energy, grinning widely, 

“Yer right, I can’t let anythin’ distract me anymore! I’m ready for whatever you teach me!” 

Mondo’s sudden outburst drew Kiyotaka from his thoughts, his fists clenched tightly at his midsection, a determined look on his face. It was almost admirable. 

“So what we gonna start with? A judo throw? Leg sweep? Hammer strike?”

Mondo performed a few quick and sloppy air punches, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

Kiyotaka looked unimpressed at Mondo’s suggestions, laying a hand over Mondo’s balled fist and lowering it to his side, watching his grin falter slightly. 

“Basics.” 

His face fell into a mock frown, 

“Whaaat! But that's so boring..”

Mondo let his shoulders drop, rolling his eyes and sighed loudly, 

“Can't we just skip that and get to the fun stuff? Like pile driving?”

Kiyotaka chuckled, eyeing up Mondo’s build, noting his poor form and unsteady footing. 

“A passing wind could knock you over, much less an attacker that knows what they're doing.” 

as if to prove a point, he set three fingers against a very specific spot on Mondo’s chest and pushed softly, watching him tumble backward, throwing off his already testy balance. 

“Now show me your ready position.” 

Mondo glared playfully at Kiyotaka, lowering himself into a heavy handed fighting stance.

.

.

.

“Oh dear.... it's worse than i thought.” 

Kiyotaka circled Mondo, inspecting each inconsistency with prying and calculative eyes

“Bend your knees more, no not that much. Relax your shoulders, raise your chin. You aren’t glaring your opponent down, you are rising to the challenge. Straighten your back, why are you hunched over?” 

Kiyotaka ducked forward to lift Mondo’s arms up slightly, using light touches to guide him to the right stance following each sharp spoken direction, before letting him relax and come to again, to see if he truly learned anything.

“When in a ready position, you must be as stable as possible. If you are trying to lash out, you are leaving yourself open for attacks. Even in a relaxed stance, you are still balanced, lower to ground and much harder to knock down.” 

Kiyotaka stepped back, demonstrating the correct position, his forearms parallel to his chest, his back foot angled and flat to the ground, stabilizing him. 

“Now i'm going to attack you. I will be easy on you, but be prepared.” 

Mondo gulped, lowering himself to the stance Kiyotaka showed him, watching the other man observe him with careful red eyes. 

He moved quickly, much quicker than Mondo was used to, and flashed out a hand, aiming at a hole in his defences right between his arms. Mondo flinched instinctively, tensing up and expecting a bloom of pain over his stomach. But when he felt nothing after a second, he opened his eyes, shocked to be staring directly into Kiyotaka’s burning red eyes, a look of slight disappointment shining in them. He had his hand poised so close to Mondo’s stomach, he could almost feel it. 

“You must ensure you do not have any weak spots. Don’t immediately freeze and tense up, I left you plenty of time to deflect my attack.” 

Kiyotaka stepped back again, returning to his starting position. 

“I am going to do the exact same thing. Block or deflect it this time.” 

His words were harsh and cold, causing Mondo to shiver. Though if he strained hard enough, he could hear the care in his tone. He truly wanted Mondo to improve, even though they weren’t very close, he believed in Mondo. Like a fire had been lit in his heart, he felt a sudden boost of energy. 

Kiyotaka struck forward again without hesitation, doing exactly what he said he would. Mondo deflected his attack this time, knocking his arm away with his own. 

“Good.” Kiyotaka huffed quietly, retracting back. Mondo felt a bloom across his chest at the quiet word of praise, making him even more pumped up to continue. 

“Try blocking this time. Make sure it hits around the center of your arm, as to not hurt your wrist.” 

.

.

This continued for a few minutes, Kiyotaka repeatedly striking at Mondo once and then giving criticism and help when necessary. His punches were beginning to get a little more intense, and faster. Much faster. 

“Do you feel you have basic blocking and deflecting down now?” 

Kiyotaka said after a minute, dropping his arms slightly to induce a short break. 

“Yeah, i think im gettin’ it down pretty well. Whatd’ya think?” 

The two moved to grab a quick drink, relaxing a little bit.

“Hm.” Kiyotaka hummed to himself, pondering for a moment, 

“I think you are doing well. Your stance has improved significantly, as well as your reaction time. If you feel you are ready, I will teach you about deflecting more complex moves than just a simple punch.”

.

…

.

  
  


Mondo had broken out into a sweat sometime between Kiyotaka barking commands as he backed Mondo into a corner with each intense strike, and being thrown to the ground over and over again. But even as Kiyotaka’s expression never shifted from the intensely focused and critical look it had garnered somewhere along their training, his voice had taken on a pleased tone. With each move Mondo had successfully blocked, an equal warm praise he had gained. But of course, for every “Excellent!” or “Good job!” There was an opposite criticism that followed immediately after. Pointing out little mistakes and errors that caused him to be open, vulnerable, and easily toppled (as he had demonstrated by knocking him over, jabbing him in the stomach or neck, and the like.) 

In this particular moment, Mondo had landed heavily on the mat after failing to knock away an attack, letting Kiyotaka grab his arm and knock out his feet from underneath him, throwing the larger man over his shoulder. He stared up at the ceiling, his arms splayed out at his sides, breathing heavily and feeling beads of sweat roll down his face. 

“Your form is improving very quickly and your reaction speed is impressive… But you still have a ways to go.” Kiyotaka approached Mondo, leaning over the panting man, a hint of concern on his face as he assured he hadn’t injured him. 

“Are you ok?” Kiyotaka almost laughed, his eyebrows drawing together as a small smile fought to creep onto his face. Mondo only held up an ‘ok’ sign, causing Kiyotaka to let out a short barking laugh. 

“I think that’s enough for one day.” He offered his hand to help Mondo up, his face flushed with exertion, but his breathing pace hadn’t changed in the slightest. 

“Yeah,” Mondo agreed, still trying to catch his breath and graciously accepting the bottle of water Kiyotaka handed him. He gulped the water greedily, wiping some of the accumulated sweat from his face, flopping heavily onto one of the benches nearby. 

“How are ya not even a little bit tired?” 

Kiyotaka smiled softly, 

“I've been doing this for a long time. You’ve only just begun, so I’d expect your body to not be used to such strenuous activity. It will get easier, trust me.” 

The genuine happiness shining and confidence on Kiyotaka’s face made Mondo feel lighter, it made him want to smile back. 

“Well,” he clapped suddenly, “nothing a healthy breakfast can’t help. Rest here as long as you want, i'll make the preparations.” 

Mondo watched the smaller man leave, already hearing him begin to hum from down the hallway. He chuckled to himself, wiping away the beads of sweat that trickled down his flushed face. When he had asked Kiyotaka to teach him, he hadn’t expected the man to be so willing and educated. Sure, he was a bodyguard, and sure he probably had plenty of classes teaching defense, Mondo hadn’t expected him to be so knowledgeable, and so… strong. 

Mondo had been in too many street fights to count, most of them coming out on top with plenty of bruises and scrapes. Mondo had threatened people, beaten men to the point that they were unrecognizable, strangled, kicked, bit and punched. He felt lives being drained from underneath his hands, and felt pulses grow cold. He had seen men cower at his feet, felt their fear and laughed at their pain. He played dirty. That was a fact. 

But none of those times could ever compare to the powerlessness he had felt at the hands of Kiyotaka. Fighting him was unlike any fight he ever had. Every move was planned three turns ahead, and every second mattered. Every time Kiyotaka caught Mondo off guard and threw him onto his back, or jabbed him hard in the stomach, it cemented over and over again how Kiyotaka wasn’t even trying. He could feel the restraint in his muscles, see the power behind his eyes. The pure energy that laid behind Kiyotaka’s restraints, it made Mondo shudder to think about. His statement from yesterday, Mondo believed it wholeheartedly. If Kiyotaka cared to, he could very easily kill Mondo with his bare hands. 

But with that said, it made every attack Mondo had successfully blocked or punch he had knocked away seem like he had accomplished the impossible. Every praise that fell from Kiyotaka’s lips felt genuine, and genuinely earned. He truly felt he fought for each win, and each win made his soul soar, and gave him more energy to continue trying. No matter how many times he was thrown onto his back, or doubled over in pain, Kiyotaka’s words of praise brought him back onto his feet. 

He shook his head slowly, feeling his muscles ache as he stood up, finished the bottle of water, and wandered out of the gym. The smell of breakfast spurring his tired legs to keep moving.

.

.

.

Half the tall plate of warm fluffy pancakes were gone in a matter of minutes, washed down with a glass of cold milk that morning, instead of a shot of whiskey. Kiyotaka glanced at Mondo, who was in a mid-pancake bite, syrup cascaded off the brown exterior and sticking to the edges of Mondo’s mouth, a small smile onto the corners of Kiyotaka’s lips as he began humming a soft tune to himself, flipping the last pancake onto the pile. 

“So uh..” Mondo mumbled through a mouthful, wiping at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, 

“You said this place had a pool?” 

.

.

Mondo dove into the crystalline waters with more grace than Kiyotaka would ever give him for, emerging with a puff of air and smoothing his blonde hair back. He swam over to the edge, pulling his upper body onto the ledge and folding his arms, laying his chin on them and staring up at Kiyotaka, who was laying back on the shaded lounge chair. 

“The water feels great! You should come in, It would do wonders for cooling off that hot head of yours~” 

He teased, a wide smile breaking across his face, flicking a few droplets of water his way,

“Great.” Kiyotaka barely glanced up from whatever historical novel he had brought out, 

“ Maybe you should stay in it for a little bit longer then.” 

Mondo’s smile quickly faded, his jab being thrown right back into his face. 

“...fuck you.” 

He mumbled, pushing off the edge of the pool and diving down again, Kiyotaka’s sharp barking laughter following him under. 

When he emerged, shaking the water from his face, Kiyotaka called from the other side, 

“Don’t forget, you have a party to attend tonight.”

Mondo rolled his eyes, pulling himself onto the ledge, 

“ _ We _ have a party to attend.” 

Kiyotaka grimaced, “Yes.  _ Us.”  _

.

.

.

The loud thrum of music that made the walls shake inside the building, while containing a hint of sophisticated jazz, brought back Kiyotaka’s memories of that horrid night at the club. His ears were already ringing after just a few minutes of introductions with the host, sharing bright and forced smiles, before having alcoholic beverages shoved into their hands and left alone. 

Mondo had been quiet the whole ride over. Actually, he had been quiet ever since Kiyotaka had told him about the event he was invited to tonight. 

He had smiled so calmly when Kiyotaka introduced him to the host, shaking the young man’s hand as if they had been friends for years. But his smile soon faded to a thin line, almost downturned as soon as he left. 

  
  


Kiyotaka wasn’t sure if he was at liberties to ask if everything was alright, since his level of closeness to Mondo was hard to calculate. The man was so iffy in his actions, it seemed one moment Mondo wanted nothing more than to be around him, while other times it felt he still resented him. Even if this party was full of high class famous rich folk, there was no doubt going to be alcohol, drugs and bad decisions. 

The pair exited out the balcony doors, noting the dim hanging fairy lights and lawn chairs scattering the calm space. Unlike inside, there was no music, there were no blaring lights. Just people talking casually and drinking, sharing stories and jokes. It made Kiyotaka’s nerves relax a little bit, but Mondo’s attitude stayed unchanged.

In fact, it seemed like Mondo tensed up a little bit more, his eyes scanning the crowd, looking for a familiar face or something he could attach to. Surprisingly, after only a moment, Kiyotaka saw someone approaching the pair. Someone he recognized easily. It was a young man Kiyotaka knew all too well. A popular influencer, actor, and all around star, Rantaro Amami. 

  
  


“Kiyotaka. It's so great to see you here.” The man approached with a lackadaisical smile on his face, arms open, drawling the ends of his words, his green eyes shining brightly in the evening light. 

“Good evening Rantaro, the feeling is mutual.” He held out his hand for the man to shake, the latter grabbing it enthusiastically in a two handed hold, making Kiyotaka immediately uncomfortable. He had always been hansy with Kiyotaka when they had talked business, Rantarto giving him puppy dog eyes when practically begging for Kiyotaka to eliminate some enemy, or threaten whatever drama-causing cretin he had somehow wound up associating with. Running his hand along Kiyotaka’s back, Squeezing his shoulder, getting up close when they talked. Just his presence made Kiyotaka fight down a shudder. 

As if to draw off the prying emerald eyes that dug into his own, he smiled kindly and introduced the man, who up until now was a mere observer of the conversation. 

“Ah, i'd like to introduce you to my associate-”

“Mondo Owada,” Rantaro interrupted Kiyotaka with his silky soft voice, his expression lighting up with interest as his olive eyes slid over to Mondo, “the ever acclaimed leader of the Crazy Diamonds. It is quite the pleasure, I assure you.” 

With a treatment like royalty, Rantaro took Mondo’s hand, raising it to his lips for a soft kiss. 

Mondo practically jerked his hand back, breaking into a sweat. 

“Uh… y-yeah. Rantaro… was it? Uh. You’re uh.. famous or some shit, right?”

“Yes, thats right.” Rantaro’s smile was too warm, his voice too kind. It was unnerving. 

He had indeed become famous after the headline making story of him surviving a deadly plane crash years ago. He majorly capitalized on the publication, writing not one, but two books on his traumatic experiences, making it into a brand for himself. Now, years later, he had become one of the most loved idols. His ability to blend in with any crowd led to some interesting mashups, collaborations and meet and greets with plenty of other creators and influencers, rising his popularity even more. His ability to kiss up to those higher than him was a talent he wielded with pride. As Kiyotaka was sure he was putting on full display there.

“Have you read my book? Someone like you, I feel, if you don’t mind my saying, would relate.” 

Rantaro’s body language was open, conversative, his tone balancing on the edge of overdoing it.

“Uh.. nah, probably not. Not a big book person.” 

Rantaro laughed like Mondo had said a joke, showing off his all-too white teeth, 

“Oh, Mondo, I have some friends that would just looovveee to meet you~” 

Rantaro moved beside Mondo, wrapping his arms around his bicep and dragging him toward a group a few feet away, chatting nonchalantly in their fancy outfits, drinking bubbling champagne. Kiyotaka followed behind, feeling a smile crack onto his face as Mondo glanced back nervously at him. 

That group would eat him up alive. 

As Kiyotaka expected, the group of influencer men and women practically fawned over Mondo, complimenting every little thing they could, asking him personal questions and recalling stories they had heard about him. Mondo looked so nervous, glancing over at Kiyotaka every once in a while, practically screaming to help him out. Kiyotaka merely shrugged, giving him a knowing smirk, before being swept up in the crowd, another former customer spotting him and taking his attention. 

.

.

.

It had been some time since Mondo had been caudled by the group of influencers, finally getting to breathe for a second when their next victim walked by. Like an old toy that grew boring, the group dropped Mondo, moving their sights, and their harshly sweet words onto the next victim. 

Mondo let out a sigh, relieved, he took a sip of the now-warm alcohol that had been sitting in his hand for the past hour or so. He scanned the crowd, realizing he hadn’t seen Kiyotaka for a while. But instead of the fiery raven haired man, he made eye contact with a noticeably drunk woman, sauntering her way over to him. 

‘Aw fuck.’ he thought, steeling himself for the interaction.

“Hey there, hhhot stuff..” She slurred, looking him up and down, ‘You wanna get out of here?”

“Uhm.. no thanks. Really.” Mondo tried for the second time to back away from the girl, drawing in on himself. 

“Oh come on handsome~ There’s no need to be coy, I’m sure no one will miss you for a few minutes, and I know the bedroom upstairs is stocked.” She gave him a sickly sweet smile, taking his hand in hers and pulling him toward the door. Despite the evident unease on his face, the crowd around him wolf-whistled and pushed them onward, egging the girl on. 

“I-it’s late, i gotta get goin’ but uh… i ‘preciate the thought, you seem real sweet-”

His eyes frantically scanned the crowd for Kiyotaka, but the short haired man was nowhere to be seen. 

Mondo’s heart raced. 

He could just push the girl off, start to yell and cause a scene, but that was exactly what he didn’t want to do right now. He was in a place surrounded by people he didn’t know, and wasn't comfortable with. If he caused a scene now, it would surely be the end of him. He could already feel a few piercing glares at him at his refusal of her advances, wordlessly shaming him into just accepting his fate. 

He tried one last time, pulling his hand from her grip, watching her stumble slightly. 

“Oh come on.” She cooed, putting her hands on his chest, siddling closer to him. 

“Do you just not like me?” She mumbled, her mood suddenly changing, sticking her bottom lip out for theatrics, 

  
  


“No- well.. No, its just that I-” 

The girl was running her hands up and down his chest, a sloppy smile on her lips as she stared up lustily at him. He fought down a shiver, feeling the presence of the crowd behind him, daring him to deny her, daring him to say no. He was trapped in a losing scenario. Either option, accept his fate and go with the girl, or push her off and face the wrathful glares from the crowd, were both going to end up in him swimming in guilt or verbally harassed. 

He felt a small shove from behind, being surrounded by the group 

“Come on man, she's totally into you.” One crowed, “Get it, dude!” another hounded, pushing the two of them toward the house. Mondo didn’t want this. He didn’t want to feel some random lady’s hands running along his body, or the breaths of watchers down his neck, waiting for his response. He didn’t want to have the ‘manly’ status hanging over his head like a noose, the ideology that a man would fuck a vulnerable incapacitated woman simply because she was there. He didn’t want to be forced to do something he didn’t want to. Yet here he was, having stereotypes shoved onto him, an expectation, a pattern, an addiction. He wanted to run. 

.

.

.

  
  


“I would love to stay and chat, but as it were, I am here on official buisness. And...” kiyotaka glanced around the clearing, “ it seems... I have lost my official business.” Kiyotaka had lost Mondo. He turned away for five seconds and the larger man had been swept away by admirers, all fawning over him. Kiyotaka wandered the ever growing crowd of people on the roof, weaving in between couples, an apology ever present on his lips. He sighed heavily, trying to spot Mondo’s golden blonde pompadour over the crowd. When he did finally spot him, he noticed something immediately off. A girl had him by the arm, a disgustingly sweet smile on her face as she was dragging him toward the door. That wouldn’t be a sight, if Kiyotaka hadn’t noticed Mondo’s hesitance, pulling his arm from her grasp, only for a crowd to gather, like an audience watching two animals copulate at the zoo. Kiyotaka saw him wince, but by then he was already diving through the crowd toward them. 

“Mondo!” he called, breaking the intense eye contact she held with him. He put on a friendly smile, trying to make it look like he didn’t notice any of the glares the crowd shot his way. 

“I've been looking everywhere for you. I am sorry to cut this little interaction short, but It’s getting late, and we must be getting back.” 

“Oh, and just who are you?” the girl slurred, looking Kiyotaka up and down with confusion in her eyes. Kiyotaka doubted she would even remember this occurrence in the morning. 

“Ah, I didn’t realize we hadn’t met. I am Kiyotaka Ishimaru, Mondo’s personal bodyguard. Now if you’ll excuse us, ma’am.” He nodded once, parting the crowd toward the exit, pausing only a second to place a protective hand on Mondo’s back, glaring at the mass over his shoulder before they left. 

.

.

Kiyotaka drove in silence, glancing over occasionally at Mondo, who had his forehead pressed against the cold glass of the window, staring longingly out at the city that flew by. 

Kiyotaka cleared his throat softly, trying to think of anything to say, but he could only say,   
“So uhm. Are you alright?” 

He smacked himself mentally, really? Thats all he had to say? 

Mondo shrugged, his scowl deepening as he refused to turn to look at Kiyotaka, “m’fine.” 

“well if you-”

“Can ya just shut up and drive?” He interrupted, finally shifting his eyes, but his stare was full of resentment, 

“I dont wanna talk about it.” 

Kiyotaka turned his eyes back to the road, going quiet. An idea had begun to blossom in his mind as he saw the city fall away into the less populated area. He flicked on his turn signal, passing the road leading to the condo, and heading up an incline away from the main city. Mondo didn’t seem to notice, his blank longing stare returning. Either he was too out of it to care, or just didn’t recognize the scenery at night. 

Kiyotaka followed the slow winding road farther and farther upward, feeling the road turn from a populated and well traveled to more rocky. 

He pulled into a gravel parking lot, shutting off the car and opening the door, watching through the windshield as Mondo’s confusion became evident. He opened the passenger side door, 

“Where… are we?” Mondo got out, looking around the clear opening. Kiyotaka merely smiled, responding, 

“Its a beautiful night, don't you think? I hear this spot is particularly good for it’s view.” 

He let Mondo pass him, walking toward the barrier, dropping down and overlooking the whole city. 

Kiyotaka ducked into the back, rustling around for a moment before returning to Mondo’s side.

“You looked a little pale, I figured you needed some fresh air, and maybe a drink.” 

With those words he popped the top of one of the cold beers that had been stocked in the back of the limo, offering it to Mondo. 

‘...thanks.” 

The spot Kiyotaka had chosen was a parking lot to a hiking trail, overlooking the quiet city, it’s neon lights shining across the harbor, a light wind sweeping soft warm air over the cliff. The sounds of cars and people like an ambient back track of a smooth jazz song, music of the city floating up past the crest and into the sparking night sky. 

Kiyotaka moved to stand by Mondo, leaning against the worn wooden railing, feeling it’s many carvings smoothened through weather and wind over his fingers. He took a swig of the bubbling tan liquid, feeling it burn down his throat. He had never been a fan of alcohol, but it fit the mood. 

‘Yer right.” Mondo suddenly spoke, his voice quiet with wonder, “It is beautiful.” 

“Make’s ya feel like yer the king of the world.” He had a soft expression on his face, one of remembrance. 

“It reminds me a’...” he paused, a sad look replacing the nostalgic one he held before. He was recalling those moments of his childhood, staring down at his home beside his brother, hearing him say, “One day, Mondo, all ‘a this city is gonna be ours. And when I get famous, maybe i’ll let you run this town on your own! An’ I’ll come visit, once I’m the best leader the world has ever seen!” Mondo remembered seeing the fierce passion in his brother’s eyes. 

“Reminds me of my home town. Of… Daiya.” 

Even saying his name out loud caused Mondo to tear up. 

“I… I’m gonna need more beer before i talk ‘bout that.” he chuckled, wiping clumsily at his eyes with the back of his hand. 

Kiyotaka handed him another, chuckling softly, “we have plenty.”

“How’d ya even find this spot?” Mondo chuckled back, looking off into the distance, watching the waves lap at the distant shores. 

“Hiking,’ Kiyotaka lied. 

“This parking spot is actually meant for it, but i figured it would make a nice relaxing spot. The view of this city at night is… breathtaking.” 

Mondo nodded, taking another long drink, his eyelids becoming a bit heavier than before. 

  
  


Kiyotaka knew about this spot, because he had used the sheer drop to get rid of one of his targets. He found the man up there, on his hands and knees, begging and pleading, clinging to Kiyotaka’s pants with grimy tears running down his cheeks, babbling on about his family and life. How he had so much to live for, and would give up everything. Kiyotaka had shoved him off the ledge. The ledge he now causally leaned on. He could do the same to Mondo. It would be so easy. Just so push him, right then and there. 

‘No.’ Kiyotaka thought. It would be too easy. Too simple. He still had four days, and this was his craft. He had to stage the perfect assassination. He could wait. Bide his time. 

“Here.” he muttered, handing Mondo a bottle of water. 

“Wouldn’t want you falling over the edge now.” He chuckled, smiling up softly at Mondo, who returned the look. 

“Yeah, thanks man.” 

  
  


Mondo took a gulp of the ice cold water, relishing as it slid down his throat and spread through his chest, cooling down his burning hot skin. His thoughts rolled over to Kiyotaka, the man himself. His first impressions were strict, militantly cold and aloof. 

Mondo had resented Kiyotaka at first, feeling a burning hatred at the behavior Kiyotaka had displayed, eyeing the world around him with a disgusted glare, turning his face from the less fortunate, and believing he was better than them all. Better than him. The way he stared Mondo down with authority in his eyes made Mondo’s skin crawl. He wanted to hate Kiyotaka, beat him, and show him a lesson. But he couldn’t bring himself to. 

Because he was wrong. 

Because every now and then, he would catch a glance of someone who was just like him. Someone hardened by their past, but was desperate for connections. Desperate to find someone they could be themselves around. 

Desperate for a relationship.

In the club, when Kiyotaka had carried him to the car that night. That morning, Mondo had seen the way Kiyotaka stared at him, a different look than the hardened cold exterior he had come to expect. And especially during training. Mondo had seen the genuine happiness in Kiyotaka’s eyes as they sparred, see his pride when Mondo had succeeded, hear the meaningfulness in his tone when he criticised Mondo. 

He saw now, seeing Kiyotaka’s warm smile making his skin tingle, or maybe it was the alcohol. He saw how Kiyotaka listened intently to his vague stories, rattling on details about his past, about his old city, his rise to fame. The small smile that crept onto his lips when Mondo laughed through his tears, telling a heartwarming story. 

“Y’know.” Mondo muttered through the top of the bottle pressed against his lips, 

“I think I was wrong about you.” 

Kiyotaka didn’t respond, a comfortable silence covering over the pair like the blanket of stars above them, relishing in the sounds of life rising from the pale city lights, their troubles of past and present as far as the ocean, washing away fears with each wave crashing onto the shore. From two different worlds, in that moment, they shared a mutual agreement. The night was coming to a close, and it was time to head back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I have little to no idea what Rantaro's personality is, so sorry if i butchered it, this is just what i gleaned from watching tiktok cosplay comps lol! ^^ 
> 
> Also Taka to the rescue! Saving Mondo from intense social circles and embarrassing situations! Yaaayyy! 
> 
> THANK YOU ALL FOR 1000 READS AHHH IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY KNOWING PPL LIKE MY STUFF!!!!!!!! :DDDDDDDD


	10. Losing Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's day 4 of Mondo's stay, already halfway through his one week vacation. Kiyotaka meets an usual friend in the night market deep within the heart of his beloved city, but things don't go as planned....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAA I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! 
> 
> I'm not taking a break or anything and I'm still chugging away at these chapters! I went to visit my bf for valentines day and didn't write for 4 days :(((( It took me so long to get back into the swing of things, but this chapter is FINALLY done! I'm pretty please with it :) 
> 
> TW for blood and fighting, that kinda thing.

Mondo was only five minutes late the next morning. He entered the room like a crashing wave, as if he had just woken up and rushed to get ready. Heavy bags still darkened around his eyes, but he looked slightly less begrudged to be awake than yesterday. His hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, much like the first time they had met, and while he still wore that low cut tank top that showed entirely too much of his chest and had smudged eyeliner clinging stubbornly to his bottom lash line-

...it was acceptable. 

  
  


“Not so late today.” 

Kiyotaka muttered to himself, glanced away from the clock on the wall he had been assessing seconds ago, a small smile gracing his lips before vanishing. 

The strict persona Mondo had grown closer to since last night taking over his calm laced attitude, 

“But still late.” 

Mondo chuckled in response, a tired tone twinging his voice as he spoke, 

“Yeah yeah, I know. Ya don’t gotta remind me. So what r’ we gonna do t’day boss?” 

Kiyotaka clasped his hands behind his back, raising his chin just a bit higher as he took on the persona of the teacher, looking like a drill instructor in his workout clothes and bright burning eyes. 

His words sharp with intellect and worn with time and knowledge of years of experience. 

He seemed to age in front of Mondo, his jovial young face creasing at his eyes and the corners of his mouth in a downward slope. 

He looked wise and weathered, like an old sailor with too many horror stories to tell. He looked as though he had seen the world and destroyed it all in the same day.

He looked tired. 

  
  


“So far, I have only taught you passive defense. The act of defending oneself without administering a counterattack. Being able to block one, or multiple, incoming attacks is a very important skill to have in any situation. But just being on the defensive the entire encounter is going to leave you tired, beaten, and most likely on the path to defeat. Why is that, do you think?”

Kiyotaka didn’t wait for Mondo to reply, turning his gaze to the wall as he paced in front of the larger man, 

“You cannot keep blocking forever. Eventually you will tire, openings in your defenses will become evident and you will be defeated.’ 

He paused for a moment, letting his words hang in the air, 

“Today’s lesson will be about the next step. I will teach you about a method I have deemed ‘active defence’. Using the breaking points in your opponent to your advantage. This method is not aimed at hurting your assailant, rather disorienting them, allowing you an escape or a swift disarmament.” 

He finally turned back to Mondo, moving in front of him again, 

“So uh… would… would pile driving be considered active defence?” 

Kiyotaka sighed, looking at Mondo’s grinning stupid face. 

‘Yes… i suppose… Pile driving is active defense.” 

  
  


“I believe a demonstration is in order.” 

Kiyotaka held a blank expression on his face as he lowered himself into a slightly different ready position, his knees bent more, and his hands in fists. He no longer held himself up, his back straight and proper, meeting Mondo’s gaze. Now, his posture was more drawn in, his forearms tucked in front, dark red eyes peering through his clenched hands, his dark brows furrowing around the shining fire that flitted through them. 

“Now come at me.” 

Mondo was hesitant, unsure of what Kiyotaka had planned behind those crimson eyes that calculated his every move, digging into his very essence. He tried to emulate Kiyotaka’s stance, feeling oddly off balance. 

He struck out a fist, aiming at Kiyotaka’s stomach.

With a move almost too quick for the eye to catch, Kiyotaka swatted away Mondo’s probably lazy attempt. But instead of merely stopping there, he wrapped his fingers around Mondo’s fist, the contact making his skin tingle. 

His mind would have focused on the brief contact further, if two seconds later he wasn't jerked forward into a harsh blow to the stomach. 

The sudden gut wrenching (ahaha) pain made him double over, clutching his aching muscles and forcing down the bile that rose in his throat. 

He tried to recover as quickly as possible, holding up a hand in the air like he was waving a large white flag. He coughed once, twice, and was finally able to keep the drinks from last night down. 

“If you noticed, your attack had set you off balance, and I used that to my advantage. Now, if i so please to-” 

Kiyotaka moved behind Mondo, who was still hunched over slightly and holding his stomach. 

“I may simply run away, be lost to my attacker, disappear without a trace. Or if possible, detain said attacker-“ 

He pulled Mondo’s arm behind him, pushing the larger man down onto his knees and pinning him with relative ease. 

“And hand them over to the authorities.” 

  
  


His face pressed against the cold linoleum, relishing the feeling against his hot skin. Kiyotaka leaned down as he spoke, his voice dropping off in volume to a mumbling softness. The authoritative edge all but dissipating. His breath tingling against Mondo’s hairs on the back of his neck sent tiny shivers down his spine, feeling Kiyotaka’s nails press into the skin of his wrists as before loosening his grip. 

“Do you understand now?” 

Mondo nodded as best he could in the position Kiyotaka held him in, struggling to free himself from Kiyotaka’s loose grasp. He pushed himself up into a sitting position heavy on his haunches as Kiyotaka let him go, taking a step back and offering his hand to Mondo. 

“Yeah, I got it.” 

He mumbled as he took hold of Kiyotaka’s hand, still feeling a bit ill from the blow. The cocky smile Kiyotaka held on his face as he made eye contact again with the raven haired man made him skin itch hotly. He couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or anger that pricked at the hairs on his arms, but whatever feeling was rolling around in his mind, it lit a bright hot fire in his heart. He could feel himself getting pumped up, confidence mixing into his blood and making his heart pump faster. 

The two sparred back and forth for the next hour or so, demonstrating different methods of disorienting an attacker, from throwing sand or grit in their face to blind them temporarily, to what he had made a note on earlier. Some had been fighting dirty, but Mondo had learned quickly that Kiyotaka cared not for the method of disarmament, but rather its efficiency and speed. 

As long as Mondo could evade his next attack and successfully fight back, he held a pleased smile, his praise evident in the otherwise quiet room. 

Each method had its’ shortcomings, but it was starting to come together in Mondo’s mind just how important these methods could be. He had always just bare fist fought his way out of any situation, not caring how harmed he got in the process.

His moves had been sloppy, but hit hard. Not focusing on whether he would make contact or not, just making the most possible damage to those who opposed him. 

But here, Kiyotaka had shown him a whole new view on fighting and defending oneself. It wasn’t focused on harming the assailant, but rather saving those around you, and yourself from further and unnecessary harm. 

The way they sparred was elegant. 

Their steps light and stable, each move made with a purpose, each breath held meaning. 

Mondo’s face had become flushed only a short time into practice, his breath labored as his muscles shook and ached underneath his skin. He paused for a breath, dropping down his arms as a sign to the other for a break. Kiyotaka returned the gesture, his own chest rising and falling heavily. 

“I believe… that's enough for today.”

There was almost a solemn tone to his voice, a hint of sadness barely distinguishable. 

“You have made much improvement in these last few days, you are a quick learner, Mondo.” 

The larger man smiled warmly at the comment, too busy chugging greedily at the bottled water Kiyotaka had handed him to reply. 

“In saying so, I don’t think i have much else to teach you.” 

Kiyotaka was taking his time with his words, pausing for extended periods of time in between his sentences, as if he wasn’t sure what to say. Or he knew exactly what to say, but didn’t want to. Almost as if it upset him to say. 

“So i believe tomorrow will be your last lesson.” 

He finished as he crossed his hands over his chest, sweat glistening on his forehead. 

Mondo stopped his actions, an uncharacteristic expression appearing on his face. Somewhere between confusion and upsetness, with a hint of regret. But only for a brief second before disappearing underneath his confident acceptance reappearing. 

“Oh, uh. Yeah, sure.” 

“I will.. go start on breakfast. Don’t be too late.” 

Kiyotaka quickly turned on his heels, giving a half contemplative wave behind him as he left. 

“Sure…” mondo muttered after him, wanting to move, but his feet feeling like they were covered in concrete. 

He had three days left here. The realization hit him harder than he would have liked to admit, and it made him freeze. He didn’t want to think about it, but he had to. What would he do when he left? Just go back to normal? He couldn’t. There was something about Kiyotaka that made him not want to, but he couldn’t place what exactly it was. 

.

.

.

.

  
  


The cool water flowed past his skin, soaking it’s tendrils deep into his burning muscles, cooling him off immediately. The light trickled through the deep water, creating wavy patterns across the cool blue stone of the pool floor. His disturbance of diving into the clear surface sending shock ripples all across. He relished in the weightless sensation the chlorine pool gave him, floating effortlessly beneath the waves. But soon, his lungs had begun to burn from the lack of oxygen, bringing the serene moment to an end. He emerged with a huff, blinking away the excess water from his eyes and catching the gaze of Kiyotaka, who sat in the same place as yesterday, brushing the loose strands of hair out of his face. Though he wasn't sure if Kiyotaka was even looking at him, dark framed sunglasses shading his eyes. Some boring history book lay cradled on his legs propped up along the pool chair, but Mondo couldn’t tell if his eyes were on the words or on him. 

He swam to the edge, pulling his upper body up onto the smoothened stone that ran along the edge, the pull of the water dragging him back down as it rolled off his tan skin, the bright early morning sun beaming rays of heat onto the concrete. 

“You sure you don’t want to come in? The water’s real refreshing.” 

“I am quite sure.” 

“Aw come on, its been four days and ya haven't even taken advantage of this fancy shit!’

A playful smirk rolled across Kiyotaka’s lips, 

“You don't know that.” 

Oh, I see. Mondo could play this little game too. 

‘What, can ya not swim or somethin’?” 

Kiyotaka’s smile dropped slightly, his attention now fully on Mondo. 

“I can absolutely swim.” 

“Alright, but ive never SEEN ya in the pool, so how would i know?” 

Kiyotaka sighed heavily, snapping his book shut. 

“Fine. If it will please you, and get you to shut up-” 

Mondo chuckled at Kiyotaka’s jab, his tone turning nervous, averting his eyes as Kiyotaka began to unbutton his top. 

Unlike Mondo, kiyotaka was a graceful swimmer. His dive into the water had barely made a ripple, his strokes were timed, efficient, perfect in every way. 

Kiyotaka emerged from the water in front of Mondo, pushing the stray pieces of hair that stuck to his face, slicking his hair back even more than Mondo was used to seeing it. 

“There, Are you happy now?” 

Mondo felt something within his chest stirr as he looked down at Kiyotaka, his round bright red staring back at him. He had never seen Kiyotaka this close before. He could see every detail, from the small circles around his iris, to the tiny dents his glasses had made in the bridge of his nose. 

“U-uh… yeah, you can uh.. You can definitely swim.” 

Kiyotaka rolled his eyes comically at Mondo’s response, 

“Yes, great. I'm going to get out now, its cold.” 

“No- wait come on! You just got in!” 

  
  
  
  


——

Hours later, the brilliantly blue sky had faded into a dusky amber, spilling warm yellows and pinks across the sky, spattering of wispy clouds shining bright silver linings as the sun set on the horizon. 

Mondo had insisted they travel the inner city, as he had put it, 

“Well, its better than borin’ ourselves ‘round here ain’t it? Unless ya got a better idea?” 

Kiyotaka had to oblige, for he, indeed, did not have a better idea. But in driving around the city, it seemed they had stumbled upon an Eden Garden of surprises. 

Like a pocket universe, the night market unfurled before their eyes.

The busy walkways of the city fell away to the brightly lit back alley. Damp cobble streets rose to meet their shoes, water dripping from nearby drain pipes cast shimmers of it’s warm light up at their wandering eyes. 

Cool night air brushed softly through the meager crowd that wandered along the narrow street, bringing with it the smell of powdered sugar and grease, dough, fish and other savory scents, the calls of vendors filling the air alongside melocial tunes picked from waiting staff, the night air stagnant in the back streets of the city.

A hidden treasure trove of wealth and abundance, just out of sight. Brightly lit booths decorated bright lights and flashy signs that read cheap prices, manned by vendors that greeted each passing person with enthusiastic smiles, string lights and dimly lit lanterns filled the space in between the buildings, attached to their windows and pipes, casting a golden red glow over the whole street as they danced and swayed over the inky darkness above. 

“I’ve never ventured this far into the city before. I wasn’t aware there was a Night Market.” 

Mondo glanced from the warm glow of the world around them, turning to smile at Kiyotaka, seeing each spark of light reflecting off the whites of his eyes, almost making it look like his irises were glowing themselves. A childlike delight spreading across his face. He turned to Mondo, a light tint of a blush dusting his cheekbones, 

“Yeah, it’s really somethin’ ain’t it.” 

Kiyotaka had noticed that when mondo smiled, the right side raised up slightly higher than the left, His head tilting slightly. When Mondo smiled, it covered his whole face, it radiated out into the world, brightening up wherever he was. His smiles were always genuine, always so full of life. Kiyotaka envied the way Mondo acted, his reckless abandon, his desire to find the happiness that lay around him, no matter what comes first. 

The two wandered the damp streets, idle chatter and music filled the night air, following their path. Weaving in and out of the crowd, their eyes drawn to particular booths in their journey down and up the tightly spaced streets. 

But in the warm moments they shared, and in the discussions of best item pricing and if they were really worth it, a subtle anxious feeling had begun to creep into the back of Kiyotaka’s mind. At first he had dismissed it, believing it to just be excess nerves from years of watching his back. He turned back to Mondo, who was adamantly convincing Kiyotaka that of course he needed this small bird shaped whistle, because it totally makes a shrill garbling just like an actual bird! And they needed to check back with the fish merchant for those late night sales. Kiyotaka! Look at that dog! Its so fluffy! 

Mondo’s sudden gasp of excitement brought Kiyotaka out of his mind, blinking once, twice, before being able to focus on the object Mondo had shoved into his face, already rambling on about it. His eyes focused on the expertly crafted golden chinese dragon pendant he held with a delicate grasp. 

It shimmered softly in the light of the vendor’s neon sign, displaying many expensive hand crafted pieces.

‘It’s a bit…. Pricey, don’t you think?” 

He cradled the delicate piece in his open palms, turning it over with the lightest touches as he admired the incredible detail. He wasn’t wrong, of course, it was indeed one of the most expensive pieces the man was offering. Kiyotaka watched Mondo’s excitement melt away into obscurity. He almost looked disappointed. 

“Nah, you’re right. I don’t need it.” 

He turned away, as if to not tempt himself any more, and in mere moments his mind had attached itself to the next shiny object that caught his short attention. 

As Mondo walked away, he slipped the man the amount, assuring the taller blonde wasn’t looking. 

“Keep the change” he muttered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, hiding the pendant.

Why did he do that. 

.

.

.

.

  
  


Kiyotaka was overtaken with the sudden buzzing sensation all across his body. It sent wracking shivers up his spine, freezing him in place. It was different than just a bit of anxiety. 

He felt like he was being watched. 

He had grown to trust his instincts as they came, as he had learned along the years of his job, they were usually correct. Mondo paused in his pursuit of the nearest fried food stand, a puzzled expression on his face as he approached Kiyotaka. 

“Hey, what’s up?”

His voice held a twinge of worry. 

Kiyotaka felt the color drain from his face, His eyes flashed along the crowd, picking apart each face to determine what person was causing his feelings. He turned to the rooves next, careful to watch the edges of the buildings surrounding them, a sniper not completely out of the question. 

“Something isn’t right.” Kiyotaka muttered in return, making sure to keep his voice low. 

Mondo paused for a moment before his worried expression morphed into an annoyed grin, 

“Yeah alright, very funny. Ya can’t scare me that easily. Now c’mon! The line’s short.” he rolled his eyes, punching Kiyotaka in the shoulder before trotting off into the crowd, and out of Kiyotaka’s sight. 

“No- Mondo, wait!” Kiyotaka tried to grab him, his hands snatching at thin air,

“Damnit!” He cursed, trying to push his way through the mass after him. 

  
  
  


That’s when he saw her. 

A few feet away, her eyes basically glued to Mondo as she slid her way through the crowd, like a snake pursuing its prey in tall grass. The light from the vendors bounced off a pair of razor sharp scissors she gripped tightly in her hand, shining it’s reflection off the walls.

Kiyotaka felt dread freezing up his veins, seeping like molasses through his muscles. Time seemed to slow down as he pushed through the crowd, watching helplessly as the girl moved closer to Mondo, brandishing the pair of scissors over her head like it was an Excalibur, and Mondo was the mighty dragon. 

“Mondo!-” Kiyotaka felt the yell rip through his throat, pushing the man aside and crossing his arms to protect his vitals. 

He saw the blood spew before he even felt the searing burn like hot metal tear down his arm, digging the sharpened tip of the scissors into his flesh and dragging it down. 

Kiyotaka made a grab at the girl’s arm, moving to disarm her, but in a flash she had slid her hand from his grip and jumped back.

He let out a gasp of pain, clutching at his arm which was already dripping with hot blood spilling from the deep wound. 

  
  


The crowd was in a sudden frenzy, a panic spreading quickly as screams rose to the skies, the group splitting down the middle, creating a clearing for Kiyotaka and the girl. 

The girl’s face screwed up into a disgusted and annoyed look, a tongue much too long to be considered normal coiled from her tight lipped mouth as she spat out at him, 

“Oh come on man! You can’t be serious!” 

She brandished her bloody weapon at Kiyotaka, a pair of razor sharp decorated scissors, who unintentionally tensed up, gritting his teeth against the searing pain. He felt the blood seeping through his fingers as he pulled his wounded arm to his chest. 

‘Why do you have to make things hard for me? I don’t even WANT to kill him!” 

She groaned aloud, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated and comical manner, as if it was all some kind of television show act. 

“Nothing against you, but I would **N E V E R** -”

her calm expression and monotone voice suddenly contorted into a rage, screaming the one word, before turning back to the bored expression she held before, 

‘Kill you on my own terms.”

a sickly excited smile crept up onto her lips, 

“But the fellas that want you dead are stacked!” 

She cackled loudly, throwing her head back so far her long braids dragged against the ground. When she arched herself forward again, her eyes landed on Kiyotaka, holding his non-bloody arm up in front of Mondo in a protective manner, a wild look in his eyes Mondo had never seen before. 

“Now you.”

she tapped her chin with the edge of the bloodied scissors, 

”you’re more of the type I’d usually go for! Cute little boys~” 

She narrowed her eyes, licking her chapped lips with an outrageously long tongue, a sickly gross purr emitting from her throat. 

“Shut up.” Kiyotaka growled, his eyes darkening under his furrowed brow. 

Her eyes suddenly went wide, a somehow even bigger smile stretching across her lips,    
‘Oh oh oh!’

She crooned, 

“Wait a minute! I know youuuu!”

She rocked side to side like a cobra, grabbing at her long braids and pulling on them, tilting her head this way and that as if trying to place a name.

“Oh yes, oh yes I know you! You’re the Council’s head hound! Domare Sicarius, fiel perrito guardián, Kakuzu Yami-” 

“I said  **SHUT** **_UP_ ** !” 

Kiyotaka interrupted her ramblings, spit flying from his mouth as his top lip quivered. 

Anger. 

That was the emotion Mondo saw radiating off Kiyotaka’s expression.

Absolute putrid rage. 

But there was another. Something deeper, hidden just beneath the mask of disgust that drew his eyebrows impossibly down, made his jaw muscles clench and shake, made his impossibly red eyes glow even brighter, his teeth grind and his nose wrinkle up. 

Fear. 

Mondo saw fear in his eyes. 

In the way his eyes darted back and forth between the girl’s bloodied hand and her face. The way his undamaged fist shook slightly, his breath coming out in ragged short gasps. Mondo could feel his heartbeat fluttering next to him. 

He was terrified. 

“Awwww~ You’re even cuter when you’re angry! What’s wrong little kitten? Don’t tell me you haven’t TOLD him yet!” 

She let out another disturbing cackle, a sudden flash of realization coming across her warped features. 

“Oh no?~ I understand now! He’s your t-” 

The girl barely got the words out before Kiyotaka had had enough. He charged at her with a furious yell, catching her off guard. 

His elbow jammed into the girl’s frail throat, knocking her to the ground, Kiyotaka following suit shortly after. 

He wrapped his hand around her throat, feeling her breath catch underneath his palm. With his other hand, he reached into his coat and brandished his own weapon, a sturdy knife he always carried on him.

One of her dainty thin hands pulled uselessly at his calloused fingers around her neck as the other held his wrist, knife glinting in the light as her arm shook, struggling to keep the knife from burrowing into her neck. Blood dripped down his arm and pooled on her face, staining her porcelain skin. Her eyes were large and wet, shining with anguish. She gasped for breath underneath the weight of him.   
She was scared.

She feared death, just like everyone else. 

His mind enveloped that feeling. Relishing in the terror on her face. Soaking in the powerful feeling it gave him to see her cower beneath his hold, to feel her fingernails scratch against his skin, her throat contract in a pathetic attempt to get air. 

Or at least it did. 

Until he was drawn from his one way battle of dominance by a familiar voice calling his name. He saw out of the corner of his eye Mondo approaching, but that single moment of distraction was one second too long.

As he turned to ward Mondo off, to call a single phrase of caution, the girl could fling a hand out to reach her scissors she had dropped when Kiyotaka crashed into her, and slashed them across his face, a wild movement that caught the tail end of his eyebrow and dragged all the way to his cheekbone on the opposite side. He cried out in pain, blood spewing into his eye. He flinched away from her, her desperation drawing power behind the swing and knocking him off. 

  
  


But in her newfound freedom, much to her dismay, and Kiyotaka’s surprise, the police had arrived. Six squad cars in all blocked off both exits, bright headlights flashing in the dimness, Officers training their guns on the serial killer known as Genocide Jack, famously uncaught, unbeaten. 

Until now. 

Genocide Jack bared her teeth like a cornered animal, her eyes darting wildly around.

She tried to rush toward Kiyotaka as she stumbled up, only to be swept up, thrashing against the policeman’s strong hold. 

Her eyes focused onto Kiyotaka again, he could see the terror shining in them. Like a bird with a crippled wing, desperately trying to fly away. But even in her fear, she locked onto his face, a horrid smile creeping its way back onto it, 

“I know you Ishimaru! You’re juuuuust like me!” 

her wide smile never faltering, even if possible, turning more sinister. 

“I am nothing like you.”

Kiyotaka spat, his previous anger cooling into bitter resolve. 

She turned to Mondo, her eyes picking him apart, dissecting his anatomy, prying into his mind with a single look, her smile dropping to a tight lipped smirk

“You better start running Owada!” She cackled, her grey eyes trained on Mondo, her piercing laughter ringing off the high walls, 

“Run, run little tiger, run while you still can!” 

She began to squeal as they dragged her toward the car, her voice like that of a yowling cat, 

“He’ll kill you, Owada, you hear me?!”

  
  


Her expression, for the final time, morphed into one filled with hatred, anger and fear, her voice cracking as she screamed,   
  
_H E' L L K I L L Y O U_ _!”_

.

.

.

.

  
  


“Kiyotaka… You’re bleeding. Here, let me-” 

Kiyotaka had forgotten Mondo was even there, his gaze still laying on the place where the car had been. He felt Mondo reach for his arm, clutching it hard against his chest. He felt a boiling anger burrow it’s way up his throat. He whirled on Mondo, his voice rising in pitch the longer he spoke, 

“Why did you do that? Why did you do something so stupid?’

Kiyotaka could feel his cheeks becoming flushed, pulling his arm away from Mondo’s light touch,

“i- i know, im sorry, just hold on-” 

“You know, i was hired to protect you. I can’t very well do that if you just run around not using your head. Why were you so foolish? Why did you ignore my call? None of this would have happened if you would have listened to me!” 

‘Kiyotaka, i know just- hold still-”

“You could have gotten hurt, you could have died being so stupid! I shouldn’t have saved you. I should have let you die! Why didn't I just LET YOU  **_DIE_ ** !” 

Kiyotaka screwed his eyes shut as soon as the words left his mouth. He felt something hot run down his face. He lifted a hand slowly to his face, opening his eyes to see tears collecting in his open palm. He was crying. 

He was so busy worrying about his words, he hadn’t noticed Mondo removing his white tank top and tearing a strip off the bottom of the shirt with his teeth and hands. 

“Gimme yer arm.” Mondo said, his voice firm, but quiet. 

Kiyotaka was hesitant, noting Mondo’s stone expression, showing no emotion, which was rare for him. He clutched his arm tighter to his chest, blinking against the drops of blood that were dripping from the cut across his face. 

“Kiyotaka, yer bleedin’ bad. Gimme yer arm.” 

Finally, Kiyotaka loosened his hold around his wound, holding it out for Mondo. 

He began to wrap the white cloth around his open wound, instantly soaking it in the inky red, bleeding into the fibers. 

He was quiet as he worked, his fingers ghosting quickly to cover the rapidly seeping wound, tearing off strip after strip of the fabric, finally ending it with a tight knot near Kiyotaka’s elbow. 

“There.” he finally said, taking a step back, 

“How does that feel?” 

Kiyotaka didn’t reply, rubbing a hand softly over the makeshift bandages. 

Mondo sighed after a second, rubbing a large hand down his face, 

‘I’m sorry-” 

He tried, only to be cut off by Kiyotaka, his tone quiet, but sharp. 

“Its getting late. Lets just go.”

Mondo could only sigh and nod in response, following Kiyotaka through the empty streets and back to the car. 

The dragon pendant weighed heavily in Kiyotaka’s pocket, heavily on his mind. He tried his best not to think of the implications the actions he had just committed brought about, but no matter how much he tried to focus on driving, on cleaning his still-oozing wound on his face, how the rubbing alcohol made him wince. No matter how hard he dug his fingers into his fresh wound, no matter how many pills he took, even in his dreams, his escape from reality, he could not escape his thoughts. 

“Why couldn’t I just let you die.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TYSM for reading! If you liked it, plz leave a comment, and if you didn't, id love to know your thoughts!


	11. Flyday Chinatown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pleasant sunday drive, and a reminder of promises since unkept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter is like... 20 pages long!!! So thats fun!

Kiyotaka laid wide awake in his bed. 

The dark grey sheets that normally brought him comfort and ease now felt coarse and drab against his skin.

While his eyes begged to close, staring up blankly at the ceiling of his room, his mind train rushed past his thoughts, falling into oblivion and obscurity. He could barely keep one thought in his mind for a matter of seconds, before falling away into the slowly building fog of muddled memories that threatened to drown him. 

No matter what he tried, his eyes remained open, fixated on the singular point directly above his line of vision, though never fully focusing on it. 

Whenever they did manage to slip closed, memories of the previous few hours flashed before the darkness enveloping his sight.

The incandescent lights of the night market, bringing a peace soon to be broken. Genocide Jack’s face, contorted with rage, screaming the vile things that rolled off her disgusting tongue. The unreadable expression Mondo held as he wrapped Kiyotaka’s wound. 

He scratched absentmindedly at the bandage covering his forearm, plucking at the loose strings of the loosened tie, feeling the pools of dried blood stiffening the fabric. It still burned like hot pins, except now, it had bonded to the bandage. 

He already knew changing and disinfecting it would be a chore. 

Morning sun had begun to filter through the flowing curtains draping over his window, catching on the gold material of the small dragon pendant that sat innocently on his bedside table, directly beside the key to his armoire. 

His aching eyes tore away from above, turning his head slowly to the obstruction in his view. He narrowed his eyes at the small pendant, finally reaching out to pick it up. As he brought it nearer, the memory of Mondo began to slowly replace the foul cloud that covered his mind. He caressed the textured precious metal lightly with his thumb. 

Why did he do that?

Why did he do any of the out-of-the-question, insane, stupid things he did that night? 

He still didn’t have an answer.

No matter how hard he wracked his brain to come up with an answer, he always drew a blank. 

He just.. Didn't know. 

Something about Mondo’s expression when he caught sight of the small insignificant item made Kiyotaka’s chest tighten. 

It made his heart race.

He wanted to see it again. 

See the way his eyes gleamed, his crooked smile, the flush of his cheeks in the damp night, the innocent joy he held. 

He wanted to hear the happiness in his voice. 

Maybe he would give it to Mondo as a gift later. 

Kiyotaka’s small smile he hadn’t realized was tugging at the corner of his lips quickly dropped as his thoughts continued. 

He set the pendant down again.

No. 

That would be stupid. 

He settled for getting up out of the crux he had been cocooning in, knowing the thin veil of fabric could no longer shield him from the daylight growing steadily brighter with every passing minute, and most importantly from his intrusive thoughts that clouded his perception and dared to cross the barrier of mind to matter. He sighed, sitting up and pushing the sheet off his shoulders, lifting his arms high above his head, clasping his hands together in a stretch that tugged on all the right muscles. He groaned softly, slowly dropping his arms and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

It was about due time to begin his day anyway, so there was no use in delaying the inevitable. 

In the bathroom mirror, a hollow husk stared back. His eyes looked dull, empty and dry.

The violent line struck from the top of one of his temples and dragged jaggedly down at an angle across his nose, and ended somewhere below his eye and above his lips. Thankfully, the cut had been rushed, so it barely scratched the first few layers of his skin, barely breaking through capillaries. 

But it was still new and inflamed. 

He scowled at his reflection, leaning forward and pulling at the bags that darkened his under eyes, noting how bloodshot his eyes really were.

He looked like a train wreck. 

Not that he felt much different. 

The bandages fell from around his pale skin, curling on the dingy bathroom tiles, the sudden rush of fresh air was consecutively a wonderful and painful experience. The sensitive scarred skin exposed to oxygen shooting needles of pain through his nerves, but the moistened soft skin of his forearm rejoiced at the exposure. 

He inspected the deep cut, gingerly pushing at the edges, careful not to break the fragile protective layer that held each red cell in his body. He nodded to no one, finally concluding he would not need stitches, but rather should be careful in the next few days. 

He spent the next few minutes gently washing away the dried blood that had stuck to his skin, tenderly applying rubbing alcohol to his wound, hissing softly, before rewrapping with a fresh bandage. Flexing his fingers, he let a small smile slip onto his lips, content with the patchwork job.

There was nothing to do now, except face the reality of the day. 

  
  


He walked the empty halls, relishing in the relative silence that hung so softly over the house, like a blanket during a storm. It almost calmed his mind. 

But as he entered the gym, tossing his shoulder bag gently to the side, he realized he wasn't alone. 

The sun filtered through the large floor to ceiling window that occupied one end of the small room, cascading it’s warm bright glow over the space. Mondo glanced up from his phone, a hand poised on the back of his neck, as if he had just finished stretching. The morning glow caught him just right. Silhouetting his form in a honey-like glow, making his blonde hair shimmer like gold. When his eyes landed on Kiyotaka, those light lavender eyes softened ever so slightly, a twitch of a smile shifting his features.   
He looked like an angel. 

In that moment, Kiyotaka wasn’t positive if he had even woken up. Surely, he had to still be dreaming, as a vision like this couldn’t possibly be real. 

It all seemed too perfect. 

Kiyotaka realized in that moment, there must be something wrong.

There  _ had _ to be something. 

His intuition told him to leave and never return, to run as far away from Mondo as possible, as his mere presence jeopardized their position.

Finish the job, and leave.

Forget of his existence. 

But in that moment, everything was so  _ right. _

__

So beautifully right. 

So  _ wonderfully _ , beautifully right.

.

.

.

So he remained. 

.

“Oh, hey. Is this when ya usually get up? Gotta say, it fuckin’ sucks.” 

Mondo chuckled softly, approaching Kiyotaka.

“Ah, no.” 

Kiyotaka paused for a moment, letting his mind catch up to his mouth so he didn’t say anything he didn’t want to say. 

“I usually get up… around thirty minutes from now. I uhm… didn't sleep well.” 

He could tell from one look at Mondo, the golden haired man had suffered the same fate Kiyotaka had. Dark bags pulled heavily against the bottom of his kind eyes, his posture more hunched over, dragging his feet more than usual. 

He grimaced at Kiyotaka’s reply, beginning to nod in agreement, 

“Uh huh… me neither, to be honest. Crazy shit last night, huh? Really uh… really makes ya think.” 

Mondo crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes flicking down to Kiyotaka’s bandaged arm and back up to the long slash across his face, quickly avoiding whatever eye contact Kiyotaka tried to have by glancing around the room. A sudden flash of pain rippled across his expression, as if he had tried to forget about his actions causing the problems Kiyotaka had to deal with. 

“Oh. Yes.” 

Kiyotaka picked at the tie holding the wrap on, conscious of the sudden shift in the room. 

“Speaking of which, Mondo..” 

With his name being spoken, Mondo’s full attention returned to the shorter man,

“I would like to apologize for what I said to you last night. It was unprofessional and…. Unkind. ” 

The far-away memory of his words filled him with guilt, leaving a stale gross taste in his mouth. He remembered the array of emotions that rushed through him with each word he let fall from his lips. Anger, resentment, confusion and worry. Kiyotaka steeled his racing nerves, facing Mondo with a determined expression before bowing, 

“I am sorry, Mondo.” 

Mondo’s lips turned down at the corners in a deplorable look, putting a large hand on Kiyotaka’s shoulder, causing the man to hesitantly look up at him. Mondo felt his cheeks begin to flush as he stared down into Kiyotaka’s dimly lit cherry red eyes, looking up quizzically into his own. 

“Nah, hey, don’t do that shit. Ya know how I feel ‘bout formailites. ‘Sides, it was my fault anyways. I was bein’ real stupid and you were right to say so. So uh… Don’t worry ‘bout it.” 

He couldn’t bring himself to break away from Kiyotaka’s gaze, the realization his hand was still laid onto Kiyotaka’s shoulder for an indeterminately long time, as he had kind of gotten lost in thought looking into Kiyotaka’s sweet eyes, caused him to quickly take his hand back, rubbing the back of his neck and mumbling out another response, 

  
“A-anyway! We should probably start th’ lesson, dontcha think? It’s gettin’ a bit late.” 

But instead of seeing uncomfortableness or embarrassment in Kiyotaka’s gaze, he only saw a muted smile and warm eyes, 

“Yes. Of course.” 

.

.

.

  
  


Mondo couldn’t help but let a bold smirk dance it’s way across his lips, confidence burning through his mind, he would be a challenge today, he just knew it. 

Kiyotaka lowered himself into a ready position, poising the rubber training knife inwardly, his index finger resting atop the flat edge. 

He looked menacing, more of a threat than he had the other days. 

Mondo felt an involuntary shiver go down his spine, memories of the previous night fly straight to the front of his mind. 

The rage in Kiyotaka’s face, the malicious glint in his eyes as he raised the knife, fully aware and intentive to plunge it’s sharpened tip directly into the girl’s jugular. 

Especially with these fake knives, Mondo was still sure Kiyotaka was trained to do massive damage.

Even so, something in the air felt different. He just knew, he knew today he would win. 

Kiyotaka shifted the rubber blade in his dominant hand, his keen eyes grazed each important part of Mondo’s body. His feet, hands, eyes specifically. Kiyotaka had learned early on, the eyes were the key to knowing an opponent’s next move. If you looked close enough, you could see their moves planned far before their body went to perform them. 

And indeed, Kiyotaka could see Mondo’s mind stirring behind his lavender irises. The goal of the lesson was to strike down the opponent. Strike a vital point with the rubber knife, kill, and win. 

But somewhere between the array of jabs and slices made from each party, his mind had begun to wander. The dark cloud brewing from that morning still inhabiting his mindspace, making it incredibly hard to focus on the battle at hand, making it impossible to focus on anything other than the unwarranted and unwanted thoughts that appeared when he looked into Mondo’s eyes, or his chest, or biceps, or anything relating to Mondo in general. 

Which is incredibly hard when the entire fight is looking at Mondo. 

This, of course, caused his timing to be off, his pre-planning to become immediate actions and his counters to be sloppy.

He was actually becoming rather fatigued. 

Whether that was due to lack of sleep or lack of nutrients he was unsure of, but it posed a major problem. 

As to take down an enemy of Mondo’s stature, required a great deal of cunning, planning ahead, and energy. 

All of which Kiyotaka didn’t have at the moment. ESPECIALLY since he couldn’t 

**.**

**.**

**.**

**FOCUS** ! 

  
At that moment, Kiyotaka felt as though he was hit by a truck, falling heavily to the ground for the first time in many years. Shocked out of whatever depressive meddling thought was currently projecting itself into his psyche, whether that be Mondo, his current situation, last night, or whatever early life memory his brain was bringing up, he blinked in surprise, taking short gasping breaths to soothe his burning lungs. 

He came to, his eyes focusing on Mondo’s face, incredibly close to his own, sweating and grinning like a maniac 

“Gotcha!” 

he exclaimed triumphantly, causing Kiyotaka’s heart to flutter. 

He had indeed gotten him. 

Under lock and key. 

Not that he would ever allow himself to come to terms with that. 

Much like every other emotion he had felt of recent, it would stay barred up in the dark recesses of his mind, unexplored, until it clawed it’s way out at the most inopportune time. 

“Congratulations.” Kiyotaka eventually choked out in between laboured breaths, his beating heart making his throat feel constricted. 

“That means I have nothing left to teach you.”

Mondo’s victorious grin quickly faded, 

“Wait, what?! Whad’ya mean!” 

“I mean exactly that. Since you are able to beat me now, I have nothing left to teach you.” 

“B-but! Not even a rematch?’ 

Mondo scoffed, his tone becoming a slight bit desperate. He had begun to speak faster the longer he spoke, his words becoming tangled and tripping over each syllable, as if his tongue were tying itself into a knot,

” C’mon. Jus’ cause i beat you once doesn’t mean- You don’t- I- i mean you didn’t even teach me that cool gun trick!” 

Kiyotaka smiled softly at his determination, his mere look making Mondo shut his gaping mouth. 

“Mondo, you and I both know you can do much more now than a simple trick.”

Kiyotaka wrapped his legs around Mondo’s torso, in one quick motion, pulling his arm free of his grasp and chopping at the crease between his bicep and forearm, causing it to buckle underneath him, and using the momentum to flip the pair over, pinning Mondo’s hands level with his head. Now the one on top. 

He leaned down, bending his arms a bit so he could lower his voice,

“This lesson is over. Use what I have taught you for the benefit of others, protect those you love. That is all I ask.” 

As if he hadn’t even heard a word Kiyotaka spoke to him, he laid there in silence, staring up at the man. He had gone completely ragdoll, not even bothering to move his hands. Only after a moment, when he processed what Kiyotaka had said, he just quietly sputtered out, 

“Y-yeah. Sure.” 

“Mondo.” Kiyotaka’s voice became level again, his softened features hardened into a line. 

“This is serious.”

Mondo’s eyes widened, as if snapping out of a trance,

“Y-yeah! Sorry, O’ course. Protect people n’ stuff. Yeah.” 

Seemingly happy with his reply, the small smile returned to Kiyotaka’s face as he let go of Mondo’s hands, moving to step off of his midsection. 

“Good. I will see you in the dining hall in a few minutes then.”

Without a second word or even a glance back, Kiyotaka exited the room. Leaving Mondo lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

He knew the reason he agreed to give Mondo lessons. He knew exactly why he taught Mondo everything he knew. 

So he would have a chance. 

If and when Kiyotaka had to eventually commit to his objective, Mondo could fight back and have a chance. Maybe even win. 

.

.

.

  
  


Mondo laid speechless, working slowly to comprehend exactly that the hell just happened. 

His warm glow of triumph had cooled to a leadened ball in the pit of his stomach, the reality of his situation, of which he had tried so desperately to ignore, had once again settled in. 

There would be no more early morning practices.

No more fun sparring, no more “good job!”s or “Excellent!”s. 

No more compliments or corrections. It was all just one less thing he would look forward to, one less moment he would spend with Kiyotaka before this week ended. 

Sure, Mondo could just forget of his existence, go back to his gang, to his family, his community and do what he always had. 

He could go back to being the fearless leader he had always prided himself in, but something inside him knew he couldn’t. 

His skin on his wrists still tingled from Kiyotaka held him, feeling his breath caress his lips, so close, yet so incredibly far away. 

His heart still pounded in his ears.   
  


He guessed he would just have to live with it. 

With a frustrated huff, he finally sat up, his muscles straining against the sudden movement. 

.

.

.

The tantalizing smell of breakfast led him down the hall once more, his grumbling stomach urging his feet to move faster. 

The now-familiar feeling washed over him as he entered the white walled kitchen, a nostalgic-like dream, a half smile twitching at the corner of his lip as Kiyotaka’s radiant gaze fell onto his own. Mondo would forever wonder why Kiyotaka didn’t wear his glasses more often. They framed his face so well. 

He sat down once again at the bar, leaning his cheek into the palm of his hand, letting his eyes stay for just a second longer on the raven-haired man before turning to look elsewhere. 

“You took your time.”

Kiyotaka’s tone was light, looking away for a single second from his work. His hands moved with the perfected memory of someone who had done this his whole life. 

Mondo shrugged nonchalantly, making an answer up on the spot, something he had grown to be quite good at, 

“Jus’ had some shit to think through s’ all.”

Kiyotaka’s thin hands stuttered, missing a beat before getting into a tempo again, 

“I see. Is everything alright?” 

The sincerity in his tone, the haze of worry clouding his gorgeous eyes, it made Mondo want to tell him, to let his heart spill out from his mouth then and there. 

“Jus’ gang stuff. It's a secret, yknow?”

With those simple effective words, whatever subjective thoughts had left the air, leaving only the comfortable atmosphere that had begun to feel like home. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t want you to be in trouble.” 

“Heh. Yeah.”

I'm already in trouble. BIG trouble. 

.

.

.

Mondo had gotten ready in record time. Sure, he cut some corners, but he never thought going without his motorcycle for a week would give him such a withdrawal. When he had casually suggested going for a ride to Kiyotaka, he hadn’t expected to be so excited about it. Yet here he was, bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting by the door. Kiyotaka, on the other hand, was not as hurried, taking his sweet time. 

But when he finally did arrive, Mondo had to bite his tongue to keep all the ravenous thoughts from escaping. 

How could one man look so good? Even if it was…. Impractical. 

“Are ya sure you wanna go for a ride.. In that?” 

Mondo gestured to his outfit, frowning particularly at Kiyotaka’s starched dress pants. 

“And what, praytell, is wrong with my outfit?” 

Kiyotaka crossed his arms over his chest, giving Mondo a playful glare. His white tux shirt hugging softly to his skin, only contrasted by the perfectly folded black bowtie sitting on his collar. His militantly shined shoes sparkled in the afternoon sun. 

“Uh.. i mean. Nothin’s wrong with it perse, jus’ saying it’s maybe not the most comfortable thing… i know… to ride in” 

Trying to keep from ogling at Kiyotaka’s outfit was going to be harder than Mondo had originally thought. He had to fight to keep looking elsewhere, but he wasn't sure if that was more embarrassing. 

Kiyotaka proceeded to act offended, rather than tell Mondo all he had packed was suits. 

Not that he needed to know that anyway. 

“I have standards for how i am perceived,” He paused as he walked past Mondo, looking him up and down once, “ whether you do or not.” 

Mondo sputtered after Kiyotaka, half surprised at his sudden jab, and half offended. And just ever so slightly happy. 

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean, huh?!” 

He couldn’t help but let an impressed smirk muddle with his faux angry grimace, 

“Well, for starters-” Kiyotaka quickly turned, grabbing at the edges of Mondo’s jacket, pulling him ever so closer, inspecting the patch job and frayed edging, 

‘Your coat is torn in multiple places, dirty, unwashed, unpressed,  _ unimpressive _ . You are still wearing the shirt from this morning, which is also stained and reeks of sweat might I add. You have enough cologne and hairspray to destroy the environment. In addition, what have you even done to your hair? And are you wearing eyeliner?” 

“Oh now you’re gonna get it.” Mondo threatened, regrettably pulling away from Kiyotaka's gentle hold, cracking his knuckles and looming over Kiyotaka, his height an obvious advantage. 

“Get what exactly? Another  _ scathing  _ comeback?” 

Even as Mondo glowered down at the shorter man, Kiyotaka’s snarky nature never wavered for a second, easily brushing past Mondo. 

“Hey! Eyeliner’s manly as fuck! And my jacket looks badass! Not that you would know Mr. Perfection.” 

The two bickered back and forth further as they left the Condominium, neither would admit how they actually felt. 

Kiyotaka, for instance, would agree that Mondo’s jacket was ‘badass’ as he put it, the golden weaved designs travelling up and down his sides sparkling in the early afternoon. The dark purple accents of the inside making his light lavender eyes brighten even more than usual. How he thought his eyeliner complimented his eyes well, and made him look more handsome. 

Mondo would never admit he liked the way his tux shirts hugged at his chest and accentuated his body shape, or how his hair slicked back like that made Mondo’s heart flutter in his chest. How when his burning fiery eyes met with Mondo’s, it made him blush. How his smile meant the world, just knowing he was happy. Or how when Kiyotaka pulled him close like that, it took everything to not kiss him. 

Not now. 

.

.

.

  
  


The motorcycle’s engine purred softly beneath Mondo’s legs, a familiar and comforting feeling to the biker gang leader. It felt almost like second nature at this point, his body molding back into the embrace of his beloved cruiser. Kiyotaka, on the other hand, was not as invited by the roaring metal beast that lay before him. There were no safety features, nothing to break your fall if you were to get into an accident. Motorcycles, to him, were instant death sentences. He took a small step back, instantly regretting accepting Mondo’s proposal to go for a ride. 

He was even more hesitant when Mondo held out his hand to help Kiyotaka onto the back. 

“On second thought, i should probably just stay here… I’ve… I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before.”   
  


Or a bike, or anything with less than three wheels. 

Kiyotaka had, of course, as any child, tried to learn to ride a bike in his youth. He had come to the harsh and sudden reality, much like that of a small child falling onto the gritty asphalt of a suburban road, that he lacked any sort of balance. And therefore, never attempted to wrangle up any sort of wheeled instrument of any design. 

He wasn’t scared. 

Him? 

Scared? 

HA! 

He had to laugh.

Of COURSE he wasn’t scared of a simple bi-wheeled transportation method of which balance was key for success of…

riding at considerable speeds….. 

Down a freeway surrounded by a multitude of cars… 

of which cyclists tend to be in blind spots… 

of which at least five thousand people die a year on… 

with little to no protection between you and the black burning asphalt hurdling many miles an hour beneath you and your fragile skin and bones!- 

he had juST FORGOTTEN HE HAD LEFT THE OVEN ON HAHA SILLY ME GO ON WITHOUT ME ILL JUST STAY HERE-

“Don’t be silly, c’mere. She won’t bite.” 

Mondo’s warm tone sliced through Kiyotaka’s fearfilled thoughts like a knife through butter,

His unwavering confidence in his own ability was an understatement. 

He was downright convinced in his own knowledge to live his life without complications. 

It was impressive. 

Mondo winked jokingly at Kiyotaka as he leaned further from his ride and grabbed onto Kiyotaka’s still outstretched hand and pulled him closer. Damn this man and his persuasion. 

Kiyotaka felt his heart jump as he neared the softly purring machine, quelling his nerves. It was just a motorcycle, after all. It wasn’t like it was going to jump at him. 

With this thought, cementing in his mind that his fear was irrational, he clumsily swung his leg over the middle, sliding into the warmed leather seat. 

“Ah. This is… this is fine.”

Kiyotaka felt the machine rumbling beneath him like the growling of a patient tiger, waiting for him to put his guard down to attack with ferocity. 

“I hate this. I feel so unstable.” 

Kiyotaka grumbled to himself as he sat stiff as a board, his hands inches from laying flat against Mondo’s broad back, feeling his patronizing chuckle through his palms. 

“Here, put yer hands on my stomach.”

“Where?”

Mondo took Kiyotaka’s slightly shaking hands in his own and guided them around his midsection, pulling the unwilling man a little bit closer. 

“Make sure ya hold on tight. Ready?” 

“No!” Kiyotaka blurted out, he quickly followed up with, “I’m not ready,” trying and failing to make his outburst seem less desperate. 

Mondo chuckled again, turning around to pout at Kiyotaka the best he could. 

“Don’t be so nervous, Kiyotaka. What, ya don’t trust me?” 

“No, I trust you perfectly fine. But there are things even your expertise cannot compete against. It is those possibilities that I am worried about.” 

“I'm not gonna let you fall. You’ll get used to it once we get goin’” 

“W-wait, Mondo. What about helmets? And any safety measures for that matter. You do at least have a motorcycle helmet don’t you monDO-” 

Without warning, Mondo revved the engine and pushed off, the sudden jolt causing Kiyotaka to yelp and pull himself forward, digging his fingers into the loose fabric of Mondo’s shirt, practically hugging the blonde haired man. 

He could feel Mondo’s boisterous laughter through his back, of which he had pressed his face against in an attempt to not fall off the danger magnet. 

“This is no laughing matter, Mondo!” 

Kiyotaka felt the heat of embarrassment spread across his cheeks, tinging the edges of his ears red, his eyebrows furrowing together in frustration. 

“I dunno man, it’s pretty funny!” 

Mondo yelled back over the rush of wind that was beginning to get louder the more he sped up. 

Instead of looking at his insufferable profile anymore, Kiyotaka settled to inspect his surroundings, watching the tall buildings he was used to staring up at through car windows outlined against the clear blue sky slowly move behind them. 

He felt the wind rush past, bringing with it the sounds and scents of the city. Music playing from restaurants with their doors open to let in the warm summer air, people sitting on balconies and outside tables, sharing a meal or a drink, chatting away as if there wasn’t another care in the world. 

The scent of rain and petrol perforating the air, a calming mix. Maybe Mondo was right. Kiyotaka began to relax a little, letting his grip loosen and lean back a little bit. It did feel nice, the warm air brushing past his face, the sounds and sights of the city more visible than he had ever seen them. 

The tall buildings around them had begun to fall away, revealing lush fields of grass and blooming flowers.

The small spattering of houses, small businesses and farms colored the rustling landscape, flowing in waves of green. The stark contrast of the bustling city, filled with cars and people, to the wide expanse of soft bubbling streams and patches of spring flowers, hardly any cars were on the road, hardly anyone in sight. 

Mondo had slowed down from the fast pace swerving he had done in the city, to a meandering pace, not bothering to rush, enjoying the familiar feeling of the warm sun on his face, the light breeze ruffling his collar and billowing out the sleeves of his coat. 

He never felt more at home than on the road. The comradery with other bikers, recognition of his powerful status, the familial bond they all shared through their love of the road, its harsh and cold prowess, but the secret beauties that laid in the winding dark path. 

Sure, he enjoyed caring for his community, he enjoyed getting in fights (Ending them, never starting), the blood pumping as he controlled his territory. 

But there was nothing that brought him more joy than going for a ride, just him and his trusty motorcycle…. 

.

.

.

And Kiyotaka. 

Speaking of which, Mondo turned quickly to glance at Kiyotaka, feeling his vice tight grip loosen around his abdomen. He had a faraway look in his eyes as he stared out far into the fields, he seemed to have calmed down. 

‘Good.’, Mondo thought, that guy was just too high strung, putting too much pressure on himself. He really deserved to give himself a break. 

Mondo was glad he could at least give him a second to free his mind of whatever had been troubling him. 

Mondo may have dropped out of college to pursue his calling with the Crazy Diamonds in his brother’s absence (Rest in peace), and he may have not been good at the arbitrary subjects of his classes when he had attended, but one thing he did have was excellent people, negotiation, and emotional skills. 

What he lacked in book knowledge, he made up for in street smarts. He knew people. He could sense someone’s stress, anger, pain and anguish like a dog sensing a tsunami. He knew there was something eating Kiyotaka up from the inside out. He could tell from the way his eyes dulled, the micro changes in his expression.

To Mondo, Kiyotaka was an open book of emotional baggage. Though he wasn't a mind reader, so trying to figure out what was wrong, was like deciphering a language with absolutely no knowledge beforehand. 

He could tell Kiyotaka was communicating to him, but for the life of him, he wouldn’t understand a word of it. 

But he was sure it was none of his business.

So in these last few days, he would just try to give Kiyotaka a break from it all. 

He spotted a small shop rapidly approaching, his throat feeling a little dryer than usual.

“Hey!” he called behind, beginning to break, “There’s a little shop up ahead, do you wanna get somethin’?”

Kiyotaka snapped out of his daze, leaning slightly around mondo to see the building he was mentioning. 

“You’re the one driving.” He eventually said back, 

“Touche.” 

...

They pulled into the small parking lot outside of the shop, cutting the engine and flipping up the kickstand. 

The small shop was adorned with hanging lights, brilliantly advertised posters in the windows, and a quaint little bell above the door. 

It reminded Mondo of the shops at his hometown. 

The ones he used to frequent with his group of friends, the memories of summer afternoons waning into late evenings, the stories they brought. 

But all that shattered the moment he entered the doorway. 

As if a switch had gone off, the woman’s initial warm greeting turned suddenly sour. 

Her eyes widened much beyond belief, a hand flew to her mouth to cover a gasp. She trembled like a mouse caught in the farmer’s trap. 

At first, Kiyotaka thought perhaps she recognized him, maybe witnessed one of his jobs and remembered his face. He caught his breath for a moment, worried he would have to come up with something quick. 

Until he realized the young woman’s gaze was focused at his taller companion. A quick look at Mondo’s scowl confirmed his suspicions. 

An eye rolling expression of exhaustion had covered his previous jovial grin. 

“Oh you gotta be kiddin’ me.”

he muttered quietly to himself, shoving his hands in his pockets as the woman took a step back, mirroring his advance. 

“Wh-what do you want.” 

She quivered, trying to keep an angry tone in her voice, as if her defiance would quell any act she believed Mondo was plotting. 

“Look, ma’am. My friend and I are jus’ here for a drink.” 

Mondo paused in his advancement, putting his hands up with his palms facing her, as if he was attempting to tame a frightened animal. 

“We don't have alcohol here, or anything your kind would want. Take your business elsewhere before i call the police.” 

she had dropped all attempts to appear in control of the situation, her voice tipping on a trill screech, tears had begun to prick at the corners of her eyes. 

“Your  _ kind _ ?!” 

Mondo echoed softly, his eyebrows raising in surprise before frustration took over. 

“Now ya listen here- That’s not what i-” as he went to move closer, bringing up an accusing finger at the woman, who made another movement toward the phone on the wall, determination in her eyes, but not enough to mask the blatant terror, 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, forget it. Forget it!” He threw his hands up in a display of acceptance,

“Not like I'd want anythin’ in this shithole anyway. C’mon, Kiyotaka. Let’s go somewhere a lil’ more accepting of  _ ‘my kind’ _ .”

He said the last word with a bitter loud tone, turning his back to her, storming out of the small shop. If this were a cartoon, he would smoke billowing from the corners of his mouth like an angry bull. 

“Can you believe that shit?!” He practically yelled, angrily kicking up his kickstand and taking off in record time. 

He seethed silently, his mind clouded with dark storming clouds.

But even in the absolute red covered world he was currently inhabiting, he was mindful of his speed, feeling Kiyotaka’s hands twitch against his stomach every time his speed increased past a stable limit. 

With the sun rapidly falling from it’s place high in the clouds, and breakfast energy dwindling on low, Mondo did actually feel rather hungry. Thankfully, an illuminated building rose from the ground in the distance. A quaint looking diner, a large neon sign indicating their status 

“Open.” 

.

.

.

It’s retro colored padding rackled quietly as the two men were seated in it’s vintage booth. Years of wear and tear frayed at the edges of every surface. It was old, but it was homey. 

Kiyotaka took a slow sip of the steaming dark putrid liquid that sat innocently in his cup. He had ordered coffee, not black sludge. But he wasn’t one to complain, since he doubted a small roadside restaurant held anything but cheap, easy to brew, coffee. 

“So, Mondo, if you don’t mind my asking? What was all that about?” 

Mondo frowned down into his drink, his expression would most likely be filled with a rageful glare, if this were the first time. But instead, it merely conveyed a deep sense of frustration and exhaustion. 

“It’s just rumors. Word a’ mouth shit people like to make up. Spurred on by one thing they saw or heard, and twisted inta whatever horror story best fit th’ narrative.” 

His top lip twitched, imitating that of an irritated sneer, 

“Same shit, different place. Sure, its good for business, and good for reputation, but it just gets so tiring y’know?” 

He had begun to gesture now, sinking into the loud cushions, animating his words, 

“I mean, it’s not like i go around slittin’ people’s throats fer fuck’s sake. We ain't the goddamn Yakuza! If anythin’, all we do is help people, families that can’t make rent that week, need a good hot meal and a place ta sleep peacefully, ya know? It’s like an Ishikawa situation. Take from the filthy rich and give ta the families starvin’ down the street. But, o’ course, rumors have ta spread, usually from one of the fuckers we stole from.” 

Mondo chuckled, a prideful smile as he remembered, looking out the window at the slowly setting sun. 

“Some shit about something, whatever gets people tremblin’ in their boots. Whatever makes folks scared. We don’t kill folks, rob innocent people on the sides o’ the streets. We protect small businesses from those big corps, if anythin’. Greedy bastards, tryna snatch up any real estate by jackin’ prices up. They all need a good throttlin’ if ya ask me.” 

Kiyotaka leaned in a bit closer, almost not believing what he was hearing, 

“So they start rumors about you and your gang to make others afraid of you?” 

“Yeah, so shit like that happens.”

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, sighing, 

“Folks get this idea that me n’ my boys are some kinda brutes, comin’ to take their shit and shoot their kids or some shit. It’s all some big conspiracy ta help those damn big wig bastards turn me in, keep me from nippin’ at their heels.” 

He laughed dryly, as if telling some obscure joke. But Kiyotaka understood completely. He had a hand in this smear campaign, approving alongside Kenryoku those media interviews, the news stories, everything. He knew every word Mondo said was true, as he had experienced it first hand. Instead of the faceless group he had been inclined to believe the battle was against, the Crazy Diamonds, a vicious bloodthirsty gang, bent on illegal drugs and disgusting behavior, he now faced their fearless leader, the ever acclaimed and feared Mondo Owada, but only saw a person who wanted to protect those he cared about, those who looked up to him. He couldn’t go back to hating them, because he couldn’t go back to hating Mondo. 

Mondo’s smile slowly slipped away,

“Not like it helps any though. Cuz’ no matter how much we fight and struggle, how much we show that there is hope, and there are folks worth fightin’ for, it’s like cuttin’ heads off a hydra. There’s always gonna be someone bigger, someone worse to just replace em.” 

As if reinvigorated by his own speech, he raised his eyes to meet Kiyotaka, a mischievous smile breaking across his hardened exterior. 

“So whats the harm in havin a little fun?” 

He raised his glass, motioning to Kiyotaka. 

“Down with the hierarchy, down with the bastards.” Kiyotaka raised his own glass, clinking his mug softly, a sinking horrid feeling in his chest, 

“Down with the bastards.” 

.

.

.

“Its getting rather late, we should start heading back.”

“Yeah, hey.” He saddled up beside Kiyotaka, setting his hand on Kiyotaka’s shoulder, the heat from his skin soaking through his shirt. 

“Thanks for comin’ along with me today. It’s been fun.” 

“Of course. I am glad you enjoyed yourself, even with... “ 

He didn’t bother clarifying, seeing the wirey smile that stretched across Mondo’s lips. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a sudden vibrating from his pocket snapped it shut.

Kiyotaka pulled out his vibrating phone, the number ingrained in his mind.

It was Kenryoku. 

“Ah, hold on, I have to take this. Go on ahead, it will only be a moment.” 

He smiled warmly at Mondo as he ducked outside, into the pink washed world, steeling himself for whatever Kenryoku was going to say before answering. 

“Good evening, sir.” 

He started, keeping his voice level. Kenryoku’s overtly cheery voice crackled in return, 

“Good evening indeed, dear boy! How have you been?” 

He sounded pleased, so that was good. 

“Wonderful, sir. I take it everything is going well?” 

“Yes, yes. Everything is going swimmingly. Say, i wanted to congratulate you in cooperating in the arrest of that fiend, Genocide Jack. A marvelous feat I had no doubt your involvement was the lead to victory. Very well done, my boy!” 

“Thank you, sir. Her appearance was… unexpected, but nothing i could not handle.”

“Yes, yes. Now, I was just calling to check in on everything, assure the issue will be taken care of soon? I have here in the boy’s surveillance logs the two of you are getting along well? I take it we will have you coming home soon, yes?” 

Kiyotaka felt his heart drop at the tone. To the untrained ear, his tone was light, excitable and warm. But Kiyotaka felt the condescension slipping through the phone speakers, enveloping him like the thorns of a rose vine. Sickly sweet, and sharp enough to draw blood. Of course. The issue. The problem with lavender eyes and a brilliant smile. He had almost forgotten. 

“Yes. I will proceed as necessary, before this week ends, you will have your results, sir.” 

It took everything in his power to remain calm and collected, keep the violent shake of the hand he dug his blunt nails into, out of his voice. 

“Excellent! I knew I could count on you, dear boy. I expect to hear all about it tomorrow night. You recall the time and place I assume?” 

Oh. Yes. The reservation. An evening meal with Kenryoku himself. Just the three of them. How…. fun. 

“Yes sir, i look forward to it.” 

Kiyotaka could almost feel the fiery full-toothed smile through the phone, his ever prying eyes, 

“Wonderful, wonderful! I will see you then, Ishimaru. I have faith you will not fail me.” 

The line went dead in his hands. Silence surrounding him, making his ears ring, only the rushing of his blood pounded dully in his head. 

He raised his eyes to the sky, the brilliantly plastered world above shone effortlessly, as if there wasn’t a care in the world. Pastels bled into harsh blinding blues and pinks, yellow streaks bled through the sparse clouds.

The sun clung to the edge of the plains, dragging time itself to a standstill, as if watching the melding romance of burning passionate flares met with cold starry blues of the night. An embrace of affection from miles away, from literal different sides of the world colliding in a kaleidoscope of beauty, melding together with his tears into a bleeding mess. 

He hastily wiped away the glossy gaze with his shirt sleeve, shoving his phone into his pocket as the diner doorbell tinkled softly, announcing Mondo’s arrival. 

Deja-vu struck at the chords in his mind as he turned to Mondo, the bursting sun rays catching his form like they had that morning, illuminating the softened curls of his blond hair, the edges of his teeth as he smiled, the subtle curve of his wrist as he extended his hand to Kiyotaka. 

He already knew he had failed. 

“Cmon, lets head back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed all the twists and turns this chapter took! (Pun intended)  
> The next one wont be as long by a mile, but it will sure be fun! Kenryoku is making a guest appearance!  
> Two more chapters... Two more chapters!!! 
> 
> Also, in other news, I started knitting, and a new drawing for this fic! I hope to have it finished soon, so if you wanna check it out, it'll be on my IG:  
> @Wherewearewild

**Author's Note:**

> Lmk what you think of each chapter! All criticism is welcome! I have so many more ideas and I’m so excited to keep writing! :))


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